The Last Stroke of Midnight
by 8andahalfby11
Summary: A Gate to another world turns the "Most Magical Place on Earth" into an unprecedented hostage crisis. Civilians try to survive as Imperial invaders try to make sense of their surroundings. Everyone is on borrowed time and the clock is ticking...
1. Chapter 1

"_Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic."_

_-Arthur C. Clarke_

* * *

**August 12, 2016**

**Central Florida, Southeast United States of America**

It was a sweltering, humid summer morning when the Laskey family finally stepped off the bus and into the Florida heat. Ethan Laskey longed for the air conditioning of the resort they'd just left. It was almost as bad as stepping on to another planet.

His younger sister, Emily, broke from their parents and rushed out in front of them. "Come on, come on!" She squealed, her curly hair bouncing up and down in her mad dash up the bus station.

"Ethan, can you-" his father started, prompting him to grumble, "yeah, yeah," and ran after her. That's just how things went. He was seven years older than her, and she was still in First Grade, which made her still a baby in his book. It also explained why they were at this place, and not somewhere more interesting, like the Kennedy Space Center or Universal Studios.

By the time he caught up to her, he nearly crashed into her. Emily stood, her eyes wide and a humongous grin on her face, pointing to the scene before them.

It was an old-style train station, or designed that way, at least, topped a giant flower garden and a sign written in an archaic style that served as an anachronism to its own text.

"THE MAGIC KINGDOM"

As if on cue, the speakers all around the entrance area began to play an orchestral version of _When You Wish upon a Star_.

Finally, after nearly a day of traveling by car, plane, and bus, Walt Disney World.

"Look, look, we're really here!" Emily said, bouncing up and down in excitement.

"Yup," Ethan said, thinking _kill me now, kill me now, kill me now,_ just the same. "Don't run off like that. This place is crowded and Mom and Dad will be pissed."

"But-"

"No buts. You _stay with me._ Got it?"

Emily returned an annoyed pout, but she didn't run off again.

After their parents caught up to them, they paradoxically found themselves in "The Happiest Place on Earth"'s security line, where Ethan presented his backpack to a guard for inspection. The Disney version of security was strange-uniformed and polished in a way suggestive of a police officer, but simple and congenial enough to feel like wait staff at a restaurant. The closest comparison Ethan could think of was a National Park Ranger.

They presented their passes, walked through a tunnel beneath the station, and the scene changed again. They stood in a grand square that funneled into a long town road. "Main Street USA" was modeled after city streets at the start of the 20th century, and Disney had taken great lengths to reinforce this with barbershop quartets, all manner of candy and fairground-like stalls, and a trolley full of performers singing a song from a long-forgotten musical. Emily, of course, was ecstatic. Ethan folded his arms in irritation and wondered how long it would take them to get to Space Mountain.

"Something on your mind?" His father asked.

"It all just seems so stupid," Ethan muttered. "All this kids' stuff, couldn't you have taken Em alone?"

Mr. Laskey grinned and said, "I guess as you get older, the story they're trying to tell does get boring, so let's look at this another way. Have you ever thought about the tech that goes into this place?"

Ethan looked around again at the 1910 facades in confusion. "What tech?"

"The tech to put on the show, of course." He pointed down the street towards the castle. "How far do you think that is?"

"I dunno. Half a mile?"

"What if I told you that it was just the length of a football field?"

"That's impossible! I mean, look at it!"

"I checked on Google maps… so how do you think they do it?"

Ethan looked around again, past his sister, past his mother and the performers, all the way up to the dots of people at the end of the road.

"... is it an optical illusion?"

"Sure is! The far side of the road was built narrower than the front side, and the buildings at the end are shorter than they are over here. It makes the castle appear further away. They use the same trick in the background of movies and video games to make you believe that a space is bigger than it actually is."

"Huh." Now Ethan couldn't help but look around him again. If that was just one trick, then surely there were more. "Are there any more?"

"All over the place. When they say the most Magical place on Earth, they actually mean the most illusions packed into a square mile. It's fun to see if you can spot them all, but Disney does a really, really good job of hiding the serious stuff."

Ethan nodded. He hadn't seen a single security person since the front gate… which made him feel the need to say, "Except the security guys at the front. They don't hide them."

"They used to. When I came here with my parents, they weren't there."

"What changed?"

His father's face darkened slightly. "Nine-eleven."

"Oh, right," Ethan said, but he didn't get it. Not really. He and his sister had been born years after that event, and while he had learned about it in history class, it meant about as much to him as the Revolutionary War or the Moon Landing. "Sorry, I-"

"Yeah, this isn't the place for it." Mr. Laskey smiled and said, "We'd better catch up with the girls, but really, keep an eye out for all the little tricks. You'd be surprised how often you'll find them!"

* * *

**4:15PM - Cinderella's Castle Stage**

In official Disney employee terminology, the title of Katie White's occupation was "friends with" Cinderella. It was a far stretch from her childhood dreams of Broadway, but it was generally a positive experience, and she didn't regret where her life had taken her.

In fact, in a way, the job was easier than a Broadway show. Sure, there was still makeup, costuming, scheduling, and standard drama that came with any place of employment, but she didn't have thousands of lines to memorize, didn't have a singing voice to protect, and she never got tired of making kids happy. If anything, the three toughest things were maintaining her figure to fit in the costumes, ignoring the Florida heat, and not accidentally signing her checks and tax forms as "Cinderella".

At the moment she was crowded into a space that was before the Castle, but behind a series of large stage props. In a few minutes, the show would begin, and everything had to go perfectly.

For Katie… for any of Disney's 'Cast Members', overall behavior was governed by a mantra of four Disney Service Basics.

_1) I project a positive image and energy._

She looked over to her friend and coworker, Sandy Everett. Like Katie, Sandy was "friends with" Snow White, and was waiting in the full getup. Unlike her, Sandy had decided that the job was not for her, and had confided in Katie that she was going to resign at the end of the week to finish a degree in Accounting. As such, she had a far-off, distracted look on her face. Katie waved a hand in front of her to get her attention, then made a face. Sandy gave an out-of-character snort, but smiled nonetheless.

_2) I am courteous and respectful to all Guests, including Children._

The lead stagehand gave their cue, and the first group of performers rushed out onto the stage to the delighted applause of the audience. Somewhere the music started up and Katie's heart gave a slight jump. She was used to this performance (who wouldn't be, after doing it three times a day, almost every day, for the past year) but the build up until she was actually onstage still made her slightly nervous.

_3) I stay in character and play the part._

The second group of characters with the animatronic masks ran out next. She was on in 30 seconds. Katie took a slow, deep breath and dove into the character-she _was_ Cinderella, this was her castle, and the actor standing at her other side was her Prince Charming.

_4) I go above and beyond._

The last musical cue came on, and in that moment it was not Katie that stepped out into the light but Cinderella who was swept to center stage and burst into song.

"_A dream is a wish your heart makes…"_

* * *

**4:25PM - Near Big Thunder Mountain**

"But there's no rides there!" Ethan argued. "Why do it if there aren't any rides!"

"But I want to goooo," Emily answered with a huff, pointing across the river towards the heavily-forested island. "What if there's something really cool over there?"

It had been incredibly slow going, Ethan reflected. Emily had already wasted their time with Aladdin's Carpets and the Enchanted Tiki Room, and the line for Pirates of the Caribbean had been well over an hour long when they entered it. Now, they stood with the water ride Splash Mountain directly to their left, rollercoaster Big Thunder Mountain directly before them, and where did Emily want to go? _Across the lagoon to Tom Sawyer's Island_.

Of course, Ethan had never been there himself, but he'd Googled it before coming to the park. Apparently, the island was one of Walt Disney's original ideas with no clear movie tie-in, and had no rides, shows, or character meet-ups. It was purely an aging collection of picnic areas, walking paths, tunnels, and a snack stand. In other words, to Ethan, it was a complete waste of time.

This didn't seem to deter his mother, unfortunately. "Of course we will, honey," Mrs. Laskey said. "It's just about time for lunch, isn't it, Mark?"

Mr. Laskey wasn't paying attention. He had his cellphone out and was looking at something on it. "Pardon?" he said.

"Tom Sawyer's Island. Packed lunch."

"Oh." He looked up and over at the island, then back down at his phone, a pained expression on his face. "I'd like to, Dear, but I don't know what the reception is like over there."

"Reception? Who cares! It's Disney!"

"Yeah, but I just got an urgent text from work. Someone screwed up the Cisco ASA and now the FTP server isn't talking-"

"We're _supposed_ to be on vacation."

"I don't like your tone."

_As if this couldn't get any worse. Really? You're doing this now?_ Ethan sighed and said, "Em and I will go over, I've got my phone on me, call when you're ready for lunch."

He took Emily by the hand and together they made their way down to one of the motorized rafts. There was no line, and the staff member was more than happy to take them across. "What about mom and dad?" Emily asked him, grasping his hand and making him shake his head.

"Do you want to be around them while they argue?"

"No."

"Yeah, well, neither do I." He shifted the backpack with water and their snacks to his other shoulder and looked down as his cellphone buzzed at him. He glanced at the message and said, "They told us to wait on the far side. Sorry, Em."

But his little sister didn't seem to be that upset. "It's okay," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. 'After all, it's an adventure!"

Ethan rolled his eyes. _Some adventure…_

* * *

**4:35 - Cinderella's Castle Stage**

Katie took her bows, smile still plastered to her face, waved goodbye to the crowd once more, and followed the rest of the cast back in to the Castle. It wasn't until they were back behind the scenes that she finally let the character drop, pulled off one of her costume gloves and wiped off the sweat collecting on her forehead. Next to her, Sandy let out a tired groan. "Oh my gooood. Is it a hundred and three out there?"

"Felt like it," Katie said. "I wish they'd figure out a way to shove a cooling vest in this dress."

"Might not work. Do you know Jenna Li?"

"I think so… morning shift, right? 'Friends with' Mickey?"

"That's right. I hear that one time, the techs forgot to plug her cooling vest into the battery pack… she almost fainted onstage."

"Yikes. I heard that almost happened to-"

A cast manager was pushing through the crowd and said, "Oh, thank God. I need both of you upstairs, right now."

Katie and Sandy exchanged a look. "Uh, we just got back-" Sandy began, but the Manager shook her head.

"You don't get it. Some toddler dumped an entire container of syrup on one of the girls upstairs, and another one called in sick. I need a Cinderella and Snow White upstairs, and I need you up there _now._"

"We're covered in sweat," Sandy argued. "We probably stink!"

"It's just for an hour. You can't have Cinderella's Royale Table without Cinderella, right? _Please_, I'm begging you."

Sandy shot an irritated look to Katie who raised an eyebrow, grinned, and drew the same semicircle under her face as before. Somewhere out there was a kid that could use a good experience-maybe today was the day? _Smile_.

"Fine," Sandy said, "Just… let me towel off a little and reapply makeup. Is that okay?"

* * *

**4:45 PM - Magic Kingdom "Hub"**

Outside the castle the crowds had already started to disperse. Some trudged off to meet FastPass times, others wandered towards their next meal, and various families collected at points all around the Hub to take pictures of their kids or themselves with the castle, Disney statue, or various garden features or landmarks.

At 4:40 PM EDT, a random scattering of kids looked up, tugged on their parents' hands, and pointed.

It looked like a glimmer at first, but over the next thirty seconds the haze started to resolve into the shape of a building some thirty feet wide and twenty feet high, with an opening that faced roughly West, in the direction of Adventureland. Slowly, a crowd began to gather again, many pulling out cellphones and smartphones and camcorders to record the strange phenomena as excited murmurs and speculation started up. What was it? What exciting new technology was Disney using to make it appear like that? How had they hidden it in the first place? Was it a new show? A new ride? A surprise movie announcement? Part of the parade?

After a few minutes, a group of park staff members appeared and began waving the crowd back. None of them actually knew what was going on, of course, just that management had spotted the object and asked for crowd control. This made it hard to answer questions.

"What is it?"

"It's a surprise!"

But as the structure shifted from ghostlike to something far more corporeal, astute visitors would have noticed the staff on the west-facing end throwing nervous glances at the yawning portal behind them. When they first noticed movement, some of them forgot their duties and turned to watch as a mass of figures began to emerge from the gloom.

They were… soldiers? Not modern soldiers, clearly. They wore classical Roman attire, armed with swords and shields and spears, and were led by an officer mounted on a horse. This only prompted more wild speculation.

"New TV show?"

"I don't remember anything announced at D23."

"Live Action Hercules?"

"Those were _Greeks_!"

As the officer emerged into the sunlight, he regarded the assembled park guests with an arrogant sneer. _Ooooh, this must the villain_, the guest supposed, and the assembled mass exploded with the light of a thousand camera flashbulbs.

The officer reared his horse, drew his sword and yelled something in a language no one else understood.

Behind him, the army drew their own weapons, roared a battle cry, and charged into the mass of excited families.

Then, the blood and screaming began.

* * *

_From the Author_

Yes, we're actually going there. We're doing a Gate invasion in Disney World.

Hi, I'm 8andahalfby11, and you may have read some of my prior Gate stories, _A Sky Full of Fire/Thunder/Starlight._ This story does not follow from any of them, and does not use any of its characters or plot elements. It will, however, hopefully include some interesting trivia, and a new perspective on a familiar place.

That said, I'm already shooting myself in the foot. The show described in this chapter, _Dream Along with Mickey,_ had its debut in 2006 and ran until April of 2016… just a few months shy of Comiket and therefore the canon timeframe of the Gate opening in Ginza. To compensate, I have given the show an extended run in this version of reality. Considering how fantastic the events that follow will be, I hope I can be excused a few small deviations from reality for the sake of the story. Anything obvious will be noted at the end of each chapter.

As of writing, I have six out of a planned twelve chapters drafted. Releases will depend on my availability, with an increased rate after mid-December.

Thanks for taking time to give this work a chance, and I hope the pages that follow entertain and surprise you!


	2. Chapter 2

**4:45 PM - Magic Kingdom "Hub"**

Count Colt Formal had been on a number of campaigns for the Empire, but no invasion quite matched this one in terms of strangeness.

He and his forces had spent the night before camped out next to the Gate, and had deployed into it as a single column just before Count Roen's Wyvern Corps, and immediately following Viscount Helm's Advance Guard. The closest comparison was being loaded onto a boat for a campaign in the Island Territories, but this was quite different. Here, he was actively walking, one foot after the other, into the unknown.

"Please, m'lord, get back on your horse. It's unbecoming of a noble."

He turned his head to look at the speaker, a young cat demihuman that was barely taller than his elbow. She had been looking at him with the same imploring eyes since a few minutes since the beginning of their march from Italica, and while he appreciated her concern, his answer remained the same. "Lyla, the battle will succeed or fail on the strength or weariness of our men. I must have a good understanding of their condition when they reach the battlefield, and I cannot do that while riding atop a horse."

"Why won't the General and the other nobles do that?"

"We disagree on many things." He gave her a supportive pat on the shoulder. "But you know that by now."

Lyla slowly nodded. After all, she had been there to witness the arguments. Colt had wanted to augment his forces with demihumans, but the Imperial army officers had refused. He had wanted to send scouting parties of female spies or demihumans effective in infiltration through the Gate before the main force, and been turned down. If it weren't for the painful lack of magicians directly under Imperial control, Colt was certain that his decision to bring Lyla with him would have also been turned down, again due to her demihuman background. That said, his decision to bring Lyla with him had been out of necessity, not out of preference; in his view, she was too young to go to war, but against an unknown world, he would accept any advantage that would return his men to their families alive.

He could begin to see light ahead.

"Did you remember to put the Amulet on, m'lord?"

Colt's handed darted up to the necklace-momentarily afraid that he'd lost it-but was thankful to feel its stony presence against his collarbone. Each Amulet of Elange had been very expensive, and he had bought five of them; one for himself, one for Lyla, two for his junior officers to share, and one for when the other nobles eventually realized the value of such a thing.

Ahead, he could now hear the roar of battle. _So, the Gods have seen fit to damn us by dropping us into a town or city instead of an open field._ He sighed, nothing to be done about it but to fight.

It was time. He raised a hand and his officers appeared at his shoulder. "Breccus, Kalo, the moment we exit the Gate, you will wheel left at the first opportunity and proceed down the largest street or road to the first wall or city gate. Count Roen will be following quickly behind us with the Wyverns, so if they don't wish to get trampled, the men must be fast. Finally, I don't care what the other nobles are up to; do _not _attack fleeing commoners. Save your strength for armed enemies. Go!"

They saluted and ran off to tell their men. Next, Colt looked to Lyla and said, "As we discussed, your priority is defense from enemy archers, and to warn us of enemy magicians. If in doubt, stay close to me.

The girl nodded, hugged her staff to her chest, and began murmuring a prayer to Emroy. Colt couldn't blame her-wars were scary, and she had never been in one before. Even during training, she had been given support roles rather than front-line fighting. The nature of the Gate meant that they were all being thrown directly into the thick of it, regardless of their roles in the order of battle.

Colt Formal finally mounted his horse and drew his sword. "For the Empire! For Italica!" he shouted.

"For Italica!" his men cried, and together they charged into the light.

* * *

**4:47 PM - Tom Sawyer Island (South)**

It took a while for Ethan to notice the screams. At first, he thought they must be coming from Big Thunder Mountain Railroad or Splash Mountain, but as he looked up from his reverie, he could see that people-lots of people-were running away from the middle of the park. Curious about what was going on, he stepped up to the edge of the pier and craned his neck, trying to see around the bend.

Not that he really needed to. Emily grabbed his shirtsleeve and pointed up, saying, "Look! Dragon!"

_What? No way._ Yet, he looked up, and there it was. The beast was dark purple, about the same size and wingspan as a single-propeller airplane, and when he squinted Ethan could just barely make out the form of a person riding on its back. _How were they pulling that off?_ It didn't look like an airplane or helicopter or drone. A paraglider, maybe? He had read somewhere that Disney had faked a dragon before using a paraglider… but in broad daylight he'd see something hanging beneath the wings, wouldn't he?

As he tried to figure out the trick, he watched the dragon folds its wings and dive, to Emily's delighted squeals, but his interest turned to shock as the monster pulled up, stretched out its talons, and grabbed a tourist from the crowds.

"Wait," Ethan heard someone else on the pier say. "That's a stuntman, right? That's-"

But the dragon made a sharp turn over the river, and let go, sending a forty-year-old woman careening into the pier deck with a loud _crunch._

For a minute, Ethan, Emily, and the handful of visitors on the pier stared at the woman, her arms and legs and neck twisted at impossible angles. _No,_ he thought, _no way. That can't be-this, this is DISNEY WORLD-you can't just-_

"Oh god," one of the other observers whimpered, "Oh god, she's dead-"

"Did you see that!? _Did you SEE THAT!?_"

"Oh shit oh shit oh shitshitshit-"

Ethan felt his sister's grip tightening on his forearm, and on tearing his eyes from the corpse, he found his sister, her eyes wide, hyperventilating and mouth trembling on the verge of a scream.

A loud _BANG_ drew his attention back to the mainland. A large ogrelike creature swung a club the size of a lamppost into Pecos Bill Cafe, then bellowed at the crowd within which was breaking windows and shoving against the other exits in a mad rush to escape. Elsewhere, men in silver and red armor with either machetes or swords-Ethan didn't know or care which-were hacking into a pair of men that looked like the ones that had searched his bag at the park entrance. Above, the dragon finished circling around, and turned its angular head to look at the island.

...no, to look at _him_.

"RUN!" someone yelled, and that was all it took. Ethan grabbed his sister by the hand and raced into the interior of the island. He wasn't sure what the best course of action was; he didn't even know where he was going-he just knew that he needed to get away from the coast, and undercover as quickly as possible.

* * *

**4:49 PM - Cinderella's Royal Table, Restaurant**

Katie didn't have a watch to check with, but she knew that the hour was almost up by the way that certain sets of guests were finishing their meals. None of them had complained so far about her post-performance state, and she wasn't sure whether to thank the pungent food or the enhanced Florida air conditioning for the support. Either way, she was looking forward to getting out of the big blue ball gown and into a t-shirt and shorts. Across the room she spotted Sandy on her knees, smiling as she addressed a deeply impressed 3-year-old, and imagined that her coworker was probably feeling the same way.

The first sign of something amiss was one of the staff members from downstairs who bolted from the stairwell into the kitchens. This almost never happened-even Disney's private collection of EMTs would maintain a brusque walking pace when responding to emergencies. Either the host was about to get chewed out by management, or…

A second staff member followed, but where the first had been wearing a mellow blue uniform issued to Fantasyland "Cast Members", this one was covered in splotches of red, and collapsed upon reaching the top of the stairs, nearly taking down a waitress with him. Regardless, the waitress's tray crashed onto the floor, drawing the attention of the entire dining room. Katie, maintaining her part, gave a rehearsed, "Oh dear," before returning to the autograph book that some kid was shoving up at her. _The show must go on,_ she thought to herself. Whatever was happening, some other members of the staff would be around shortly to handle it. Cinderella was a _Princess_, after all, not an emergency responder.

But it was the collection of chefs and wait staff that suddenly burst from the kitchen and rushed to the large glass windows that ended all sense of show. Something was clearly wrong, and several individuals-a rag-tag collection of fathers and mothers left their tables to see if they could determine what was going on.

Sandy caught her eye, and they were both thinking the same thing. _Active shooter? Terrorist attack_? They simply couldn't think of anything else that could prompt such a response. Katie didn't know of a clear protocol for something like that; sure, she had heard stories about the mass-evacuation during the September Eleven attacks, but even that had supposedly boiled down to gently guiding guests towards the park exits. No one ever spoke about what the character-actors did in that situation.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

One final staff member had ascended the spiral staircase. This man was pale, and held his half-severed right arm, leaking, to his side. "RUN!" he cried, "RUN YOU-"

He was cut short by the sword blade that burst from his chest, causing the remaining of his warning to become an incoherent gurgle as he slid to the floor.

Someone screamed, and the scream turned into a wail as people began doing anything they could to get themselves and their families away from the grisly murder. Katie found herself running with them… or, as well as her gown would allow… but already the world had started to blur as a sense of panic set in, so much so that it barely registered when she was tackled and thrown to the floor, her head narrowly missing the edge of a chair on the way down.

Her attacker flipped her over, and through blurred vision as her eyes started to fill with tears she could barely see a red uniform and silvery armor. Her attacker had a sword drawn, ready to plunge it in her neck, and shouted something at her in a foreign language.

It didn't matter. She didn't know… she didn't know anything anymore, and all that was left to do was embrace the feeling to the tears trickling down her cheeks as she waited to die.

* * *

**4:49 PM - Main Street**

"This way, this way!" Colt shouted at his men, and pressed further down the road.

It was a town or city street; that much was certain from the stone walkways and buildings. What was far less clear was the curious architecture of white window frames and red bricks and sticks with glass orbs that lined either side of the road. The various buildings were adorned with text that he couldn't read, selling objects that he couldn't understand, and packed with people.

Ah yes, the people. _So many people._ Colt hadn't seen such a large crowd packed into one place outside of the yearly harvest festival or military columns. They came in all shapes, sizes, and skin tones, but they were all unmistakably human, and as such they rightfully fled before armed invaders. In fact, Colt was strongly under the impression that this road he was on led to the town's main gate, given the number of people that were fleeing in that direction.

And what a flight it had been. Hundreds-no, easily _thousands_ of screaming commoners had rushed in the direction of the town gates, and as his men swept forward, he was forced to navigate his horse around several poor souls that had been crushed in the stampede. Now, almost to the apparent gatehouse, his forces had again encountered the mass of people desperately trying to leave. Thankfully, on seeing his horse, most ran away in any direction they could, often into buildings or over fences, enough that if not for the hundreds of men backing him up, Colt would have feared being overrun.

For now, he just needed to hold the city gates until Count Missna could work his way through the masses with his cavalry. After emerging from a brief tunnel (_Odd, no doors or portcullis)_ he found himself looking out over a great lake, bordered by a giant pair of steel rails that ran off in either direction around its perimeter. He had no time to take this in, as a rising and falling shrieking noise announced some new enemy: shiny carts that pulled themselves and were topped by bright flashing red and blue lights. Colt forgot that he was on a battlefield for an instant and stared in wonder at the whirling lights-what were they? What kind of strange magic-

More humans emerged from these strange carts, and his Amulet of Elange finally proved its worth.

A great booming voice shouted, "ORLANDO POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS! DO IT **NOW!**"

He had no idea what 'Orlando Police' was supposed to be. Colt supposed that this was either the nation's army or the town's militia… yet it struck him as strange that they would be gathering from somewhere outside the town walls, rather than manning posts atop them.

No matter. He prepared to tell his men to charge at the guards through the fleeing commoners, but he was just a moment too slow. The thundering of hooves announced the arrival of Count Missna's horses. As the 'Police' carried neither spears nor bows, Colt expected this to be a short battle.

And it was. One of the Police pointed a black tube, not much longer than Colt's sword, at the nearest cavalryman. The tube erupted with a bright light and the sound of thunder.

The cavalryman, suddenly liberated of his right arm and part of his chest, fell from his horse. A virtual typhoon followed, as some police produced similar tubes, others smaller tubes not much larger than a hairbrush, all barking with that terrible fire that punched holes through the mounted soldiers. Colt saw Count Missna himself lean into a valiant charge, lance in one hand, roaring a battle cry, only to be cut short by the same terrifying force that sliced first through his chest, then through his neck, and finally his head before he joined the members of the ill-fated charge on the pavement.

Not wishing to be the next victim, Count Formal dove from his horse and backpedaled towards the town gates, waving his men to get back, wondering all the while why he had yet to share Missna in his fate.

The answer, surprisingly, came from the Police themselves. They lowered their weapons and screamed at the crowd, "Get down! Get down! Get out of the way!"

"It's the commoners!" Colt realized, then, turning back to his men, yelled, "It's the commoners! They won't attack the commoners!" Missna and his men had died because they were mounted on war horses, and therefore isolated targets. The tubes-whatever they were-acted like bows and arrows, and they could not fire with their own commoners in the way.

That left only one viable answer. "Grab the commoners! Grab as many commoners as you can and get back through the tunnel! Form a wall that they can't shoot through!" It was a despicable solution, but there was no other way to save the lives of his men. "NOW!" he shouted, then grabbed a young man from the fleeing crowd, spun him around to put the commoner between himself and the weapons of the Police, and began to drag him back in the direction of the tunnels. "Do as I do! Hurry!"

It was much slower going in the opposite direction, particularly with the man blubbering, "_Please, please let me go. I have a fiancé, please, I'll give you anything you want_…"

He didn't stop until the firm press on his shoulder of his captain, Kalo, who said, "Count Formal, what the-!?"

Colt explained to the best of his ability, and together they organized the corralled civilians into rows, at sword and arrowpoint, such that the Police would not dare to counter attack.

This done, Colt dropped onto a stone ledge bordering a garden, and it was only then that he had a chance to stop and catch his bearings. His horse was gone, as were several of his men who were unlucky enough to have charged the Police with Missna's men; even in that instance, Colt reflected, his soldiers had nearly been atop his adversary's strange carts before they would trigger their weapons-and what weapons! Colt had never seen anything like it. Some kind of fire tube that threw what he assumed to be either sling stones or tiny bolts at such horrific speed as to rip open the assailant. He longed to get his hands on one, to see how it worked and why it was able to slice through armor so easily.

"M'lord?"

Colt looked up to see Lyla standing there, clutching her staff, an exhausted and teary-eyed look on her face. "I'm sorry," she said, "Captain Breccus is dead. I-I tried but the battle-the thunder sticks-I couldn't focus-a-and-"

Colt stood, walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Somehow, I suspect that Wind magic would not be enough to stop these attacks. We were against an unknown enemy wielding unknown weapons, and we were lucky to retreat with our lives. I do not fault you for anything that happened to Breccus."

They were interrupted by a gust of wind as Count Roen, a tall, thin man with a flowing white cape settled his Wyvern into the courtyard, dismounted, and running over to Colt, asked, "Where's Missna?"

"Dead. Spread the word; the soldiers from this world are called Police and they do not attack civilians. Use commoners to shore up entrances and exits to the city, and prepare for a siege."

"You saw them too, eh? The flashing lights?" Roen said. "In the north, they almost shot the Wyverns out from under us. I'll let the others know, but General Kagran requests your assistance as soon as the defenses are put together. The sooner we find the ruler of this town, the sooner we may get the militia outside to surrender."

"As the General commands." Colt gave him the Imperial salute and the other noble returned to his mount, saluted in turn, and with two great sweeps of its wings the Wyvern was airborne once more.

It wasn't a victory, Colt reflected, but it was certainly not a disaster either. They had quite clearly taken the city and its castle keep, and they had taken thousands of civilians along with them. Perhaps the other nobles weren't in the mood for a siege, but as long as the Gate provided supply lines back to Falmart, they could remain locked in an endless stalemate, and the Lord of Italica was absolutely fine with that. He still had so many questions about this place, and he couldn't wait to find a librarian or query the nobles.

Looking back up the street towards the castle, he couldn't help but marvel at how far away it looked. It hadn't felt that far in the opposite direction; had he really traversed the distance so quickly?

"Question, Lyla," Colt said. "Have you detected any magic since our arrival?"

"No, m'lord," Lyla said. "Why?"

He would have accepted the idea of an illusion spell, but if Lyla said that no such thing had been planted here, he believed her… and yet...

Colt Formal shook the thought from his head-battles did strange things to one's sense of time and place. There was nothing to do right now but move on. "Nothing," he said, "let's help the others. I suspect that this is going to be a very, very long day."


	3. Chapter 3

**5:40 PM - Tom Sawyer Island (South)**

Ethan didn't know how long he and his sister cowered in the fake cave. He didn't wear a watch, and he was too scared to look at his cellphone for fear of the light from the screen giving him away. Instead, all of his attention was hyper-focused on sound—any sound that would suggest that the dragon and its rider were coming after them.

Emily, grasping tightly to his side, tugged on his shirt and stood on her toes to whisper into his ear. "Are mom and dad gonna come get us?"

"I don't know," he whispered back. The invaders and their monsters had been about halfway across Frontierland before he rushed with his sister to the cave. Their parents had been standing near the docks by Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, almost at the very edge of the park. They should've had enough time to see the attack coming and run away.

Or they could both be dead.

The sound of rumbling and water dripping caused Ethan to look up in a panic, then settle down as he released that they were part of a speaker sound effect, designed to give the fake cave a better sense of atmosphere. "We can't stay here," he said. "If we do, the noises will drive me crazy."

"We're going outside!?"

"Shh!"

Emily placed a hand over her mouth, squeezed her brother's hand again, and said, "I don't wanna."

"We'll be real careful. Just follow me, and stay quiet."

Slowly, they made their way through the rest of the cave. In all honesty, Ethan had no idea what his next move would be once they got out. On the one hand, the distance into Frontierland and the fact that it was surrounded by water made Tom Sawyer's Island the deepest part of the park; both visitors and the scary new enemy would be less likely to travel all the way out here. On the other hand, they had arrived by boat, and trying to leave by boat would draw a lot of attention that he didn't want.

As they neared the cave exit, Ethan dropped down, waved for Emily to stay back, held his breath and peeked outside.

Nothing. From this spot he couldn't see outside the island, but the path was empty, and it was overall quieter than it had been before. The screaming had stopped, at least.

He took a quick glance up into the sky and, finding nothing but clouds, waved for his sister to follow him. "Keep low, keep quiet, keep behind me," he whispered, and the two turned left and started down the path.

Based on the flickers of mainland he caught through the trees, he knew they were headed "North", or "up" relative to the park map. He couldn't remember what was up there… all he did know what that it was taking them away from the exposed docks and deeper into the island.

A scream from somewhere on the mainland caught their attention, and Emily ducked behind him. He froze, listening, and decided it was someone across the river. It made him wonder where the others stuck on the island had gone. Were they still in hiding, or had they all tried to swim for the shore?

The path ended in the worst possible way. In actuality, Tom Sawyer's Island was not one island, but two, and connecting the two together was a sixty foot rope and wood suspension bridge.

If they dared to cross, they would be completely exposed. Ethan could see both shores from here, and he knew that if even one person spotted them and sounded an alarm, they would both die.

Ethan looked back the way they'd come. To return in that direction, in his opinion, was suicide. The "south" island was far too exposed, and the visible docks made it an enticing target if the otherworldly forces decided to investigate the island again. Nowhere was good to hide, and since there was no sign of the police or military, they couldn't count on being saved if they made a mistake.

As he examined the bridge again, Ethan considered the rope netting along either side, to prevent visitors from falling into the river. The gaps were far too wide to hide them. There had to be another way.

He took a risk and stuck his head out of the tree line once more and looked quickly in each direction. On the right side, the queue for the Haunted Mansion was empty, dark, and thankfully seemed like less of a problem than he had first anticipated. The left side was another story; in that direction lay Big Thunder Mountain, where a handful of the soldiers and one of their ogres where sweeping the area for any remaining strays. None seemed interested in the island though… but if just one of them to looked in their direction, they were done for.

Was it worth the risk? Ethan took a deep breath, turned to Emily and said, "We're going to cross the bridge. When I say "go", we're going to run as fast as we can to the other side. Don't stop, don't look around, just keep going until we're surrounded by trees again. Got it?"

"I'm scared."

"Me too, but they say that it makes you run faster." He flashed her a grin that he didn't feel at all. "Ready?"

He looked out once more. The soldiers had walked up the Thunder Mountain queue, and were about to descend into the ride loading area. Even from a distance, Ethan thought they looked like ancient Greeks or Romans… something out of a history textbook. Didn't matter. All that mattered now—

"Two, one, _go!_"

He ran. In his terror every footfall sounded like thunder, the other end of the bridge seemed like a million miles away, and a looping thought in the back of his head screamed at him that the Romans would notice him _now—_no, _now,_—no, NOW.

It didn't register that he was on the other side of the bridge until he went careening into the brush. A fraction of a second later, an eternity for him, he felt the impact of his sister crashing into his back. He waved at her to silence her heaving gasps and tried to listen for the sound of shouting.

Nothing.

Were they too far away? Had they raised the alarm some other way? He looked up again, still fearful that the dragon might still be up there. Carefully, he ducked down again and took one more glance towards the mainland.

The ogre was looking away, and the soldiers had not returned.

Ethan collapsed back onto the dirt path. They were safe, for now.

Looking up, he saw Emily, her eyes still wide in panic, so he gave her a thumbs-up and said, "They didn't see us."

In response, she dropped to her knees and began to sob, so Ethan got back up and wrapped her in her arms.

"I—w-want—to go h-home," she said.

"Yeah," Ethan said, "but you're doing great so far."

"H-how, much further?"

"Just a little. We're almost done for now."

"You promise?"

"Yup."

"Okay." She took a deep shuddering breath, and while she let go of his chest, she did not let go of his hand.

The "north" island had fewer paths and was thicker with trees, so they were able to move a little faster.

Fortunately, they didn't have far to go. The trail dead-ended a few minutes later in an imposing wood structure, identified by a large sign atop it that read ""Fort Langhorn."

The doors to the fort stood open, waiting.

Slowly, carefully, Ethan made his way inside, listening for anything that might betray the presence of an enemy… or other survivors. Fortunately, he saw no one, heard nothing, save for a relatively muted audio loop of clucking chickens from one of the houses. The area around the fort was densely forested and the structure had high walls, so there was no danger of anyone looking in from the outside. The buildings within the fort were densely packed enough that the "square" and its flagpole in the middle made it impossible to imagine the dragon trying to land there.

It might have been a fake; a set piece dreamed up by some low-rung Disney engineer half a century ago, but from Ethan's perspective it was as if he'd been gifted his own, private Fort Knox. For now, at least, they would be safe...so he hoped.

* * *

**5:45 PM - Magic Kingdom "Hub"**

""I swear it looked further away," Colt muttered as he returned to the Hub island where the Gate was based. A few minutes' walk had returned them from the town entrance to the area before the castle. Already supplies and equipment were starting to pour through from Falmart; namely partially assembled wood barricades, food, and medical supplies. The magicians that had first widened and stabilized the Gate had wagered a high chance that the Gate would open in a field or wasteland, and so they had prepared to assemble a fortress around their way home as soon as the immediate area was scouted and secured. Now, many of those same pieces were being rushed to fill gaps between buildings or barricade the town's exits.

They had planned for a simple invasion, and now they were preparing to begin a siege.

A series of attendants guided him to a grand platform before the castle, upon which a long table had been prepared. Standing at its head was the General himself.

Colt had met Kagran at a number of ceremonies in Sadera and had not been impressed. He was a mediocre tactician at best, and had won his rank through sucking up to the right nobles at the right times. The General had never lost a campaign but that meant little when most of those campaigns were against tribal demihumans or minor kingdoms while he had tens of thousands of men at his back. That said, Colt knew that Kagran could be depended upon to listen to reason… as long as they were speaking in private.

Now was not one of those times. On seeing Colt, Kagran looked up from the maps and scrolls on the table, approached him, grasped his arm in greeting, and said, "Damn good to see that you survived. I'm sorry to hear about your Captain."

"Breccus was a good man. Count Missna too."

"We will have our chance to avenge them," Kagran said with a firm nod, "your observation about our enemies was valuable. Indeed they do not attack their own commoners. It has bought us time to bring in the reserves from Alnus. If all goes well, our next attack will commence before dusk."

Colt shook his head. "I would like more time to study this place first. The idea of marching into battle with no information about the enemy makes me uncomfortable after the last engagement."

Kagran thought about it, then gestured to the table. "Let me show you something."

Upon the table, in addition to the scrolls were a number of colored maps. On closer inspection, Colt could see that the maps were full of notation in the same clear, crisp writing as the signage on the town's main road. "We have found maps like these everywhere. I've had to order my men to stop bringing them to me."

"This place could be a merchant town," Colt said. "Italica is much the same way, and often we need to direct newcomers where to go. It would also explain why the streets were so crowded."

"Yet when we compare these maps to overhead observations by Noen's Wyverns, there are a great many structures omitted."

"Is that so strange? The idea is to direct visitors to the marketplace and the inns, not the treasury or the armory. It does make me curious what's inside though. Have your men found any libraries?"

Kagran smiled. "Even on the battlefield, you're still a scholar. You know, there are some in the Senate who called me a fool for bringing you along, namely due to your insistence on certain…" he glanced at Lyla, "...considerations—"

"I still believe that we would have benefitted from having a diverse group of demihuman specialists, for the sake of having a full spread of enhanced senses for investigating—"

"Count Formal."

Colt stopped. He had forgotten the context, "My apologies, General. I got carried away."

The general nodded, pulled up a chair, and said, "And that, Colt, is what I meant for you to see. You are overly cautious of all the wrong things. You worry about the success of our men, but not the purity and dominance of our human-led Empire. It is the will of the Gods that we conquer this land. The Gate would not have opened if it was not to be. I have no doubt of your intelligence, except when it gets in the way of your loyalty to the Empire."

The Lord of Italica wanted to respond, but he knew that it wasn't his place. "I will do better to keep myself in check."

"Apology accepted. For now, I would like to discuss the next steps."

The General gestured over his right shoulder at the castle. "What do you think of that?"

The Lord of Italica folded his arms and looked up at the great gray and blue structure. He had been involved in a number of construction projects around Italica and had a general understanding of architecture. "It seems to be a manor, rather than a keep," Colt decided. "It's poorly designed for countering a siege, it lacks the walkway space for guard patrols, and unless you know something I don't, the entrance appears designed to let travelers pass beneath the castle, rather than into it. As a result, there's nowhere to drop off large deliveries or offload supply trains. I can only assume that it is meant as a living and meeting place for nobles...although, when I think about the manor in Italica, it was designed for that purpose. This building seems like the outside was modeled off the aesthetics of war, but not the function. It's a paradox, and I wouldn't be surprised if the engineer was exiled or beheaded."

The General nodded. "It's as you say. We have found dining halls, living quarters, and a kitchen with storage… and little else."

"Have you made contact with the royalty?"

"I gave Viscount Maio your spare Amulet of Elange. He should be working to identify them now."

Colt winced. "Begging your pardon, General, but Helm?"

"He gives himself full-heartedly to the empire, we must credit him that much."

"The man's a maniac."

The General raised an eyebrow. "Crown Prince Zorzal doesn't seem to think so. Would you really go against the Crown Prince?"

Colt couldn't help but scowl at the name. The sudden influx of Warrior Bunny refugees from Zorzal's little crusade hadn't been responsible for spurring Italica's equality policy towards demihumans, but it had certainly helped reinforce it. As one of Zorzal's lackeys, Helm shared many of the traits that Colt disliked in the Crown Prince… but to draw such a comparison would be dangerous; politically if not physically, given how many supporters Zorzal had in the armed forces. The General had already warned him once. He still had three daughters that he wished to return to. "No, of course not. I merely wish to point out that we risk losing a valuable resource should Helm prove to be too… expedient?"

"He's a young noble. This will be a good experience for him. Helm will locate the lord or royal, and then you may interrogate them to your heart's desire."

"As you command," Colt made it halfway through a salute, paused, then added, "though, I should ask, is there anything you want me to focus on?"

"Any information you can gain about this town, for starters, including treasuries, armaments, and dangers. I would especially like some of the weapons that killed Missna. Failing this, if you can make them call off the "Police", and then describe the lands beyond, that would be useful. And, of course, if they could translate one of these maps that would make things far easier for the rest of us."

"I will do my best." Colt finished the salute and Kagran gave him leave.

As they walked off the rear of the platform and into the castle, Lyla caught up to him and asked, "What do you suppose they're like?"

"Who?"

"The royalty of this place?"

Colt wasn't quite sure himself. Thinking about it aloud, he said, "Affluent, of course—such diverse architecture must have cost a lot of money, tough perhaps a bit empty-headed to spend it all on such things. There is definitely an ego involved; a grand stage, a castle that looms over the surroundings… but we have yet to see a monument or statue."

Lyla opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, and then shook her head.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing, m'lord."

"Are you certain?"

"A passing thought, nothing more. It's impossible, after all. There are no demihumans here."

Colt thought about this for a moment. Now that Lyla mentioned it, he hadn't seen a single demihuman face in the throngs of commoners during their push to the town entrance. That said, demihumans in other cities around the Empire normally had a much lower income than their human counterparts. Perhaps they simply hadn't found the slums yet. Then again, this was another world… "There is a very real possibility that you're the only one of your kind in this world," Colt said. "If so, congratulations on being the first!"

Lyla slowly nodded, and Colt could clearly see that she wasn't happy with the idea. "Come now," he said, "if that's true, then that makes you an ambassador, in a sense. It's a very important job!"

"It is as you say. M'lord."

There was only so much he could do, so he shrugged, smiled and said, "As a fellow ambassador, I feel your nervousness. I shall protect your back, will you protect mine?"

This, for once, got Lyla to brighten slightly. "Always, m'lord."

* * *

**5:50 PM - Cinderella's Royal Table, Restaurant**

Katie had never been so scared in her entire life; not during high school exams, not the one time she'd broken an arm, not during her final University project nor her Disney audition. All of it paled in comparison to her terror at the soldiers and their swords.

Two guests and one of the staff had tried to intervene. All three had been cut down, and their bodies dragged off to the far side of the room where they still lay, the floor around them smeared with blood. The soldiers themselves did not speak English, and herded anyone left alive to the back of the dining hall, so that they were all pressed up against the great glass windows.

After several minutes, an officer appeared. Katie assumed that he was an officer from his bright white cape, which stood in contrast with the uniforms of the other soldiers around him. He was young, with short brown hair and mixed European features, and when he spoke, something very strange happened. The words were in English, but the sounds did not seem to match the positions of his mouth until he was over two dozen words in. "I am Viscount Helm Fule Maio. This town is hereby annexed by the Grand Imperial Saderan Empire, in the name of his Excellency Mort Sol Augustus and the Imperial Senate. Rejoice, for you have been freed from your original oppressors and are now part of the most powerful nation in existence. Those that aid us will be rewarded, while those who resist us…"

He pointed at the pile of corpses, "...they will be made into examples."

The Viscount got no immediate response, but Katie could feel the mix of reactions around her. Disbelief, shock… and the slow coiling tension of anger.

"Now, the General wishes to identify the nobility of this town. Who is your lord?"

He got no response, so he approached the crowd of guests and staff who shied away from him, and began walking down the front row. Eventually he picked out a man in a staff uniform—one of the waiters—and said, "You. Answer."

The man, pale and shaking, said, "We don't have a lor—"

Helm pulled a jewel-pommeled knife from within his cloak and slit the man's throat. The waiter collapsed, gurgling and grasping at his neck in a futile effort to stop the fountain of blood. Everyone else backed away, and a new round of terrified sobs started.

"Shut him up," he said to one of the soldiers, who walked over and jammed a spear into the waiter's chest. It wasn't enough, and Katie grasped her mouth, shut her eyes, and fought an urge to puke at the sucking noise as the soldier pulled his spear out of her coworker to try again.

With the waiter finally silenced, Helm turned back to his captive audience and said, "Let's try again. _Who is your lord?_"

Again, no one replied. What would they say, after all? The Governor of Florida? Bob Iger? Neither of them were in the dining hall, and Helm had already demonstrated the consequences of suggesting that their 'town' had no lord.

"Hmmm…" Helm grinned, and to Katie's horror he grabbed Sandy by the collar of her dress and hauled her into the center of the room. This time the reaction was very different; a scattering of girls, elementary school or younger, let out a panicked cry.

"I guess there's always the law of succession. If you won't tell me who your lord is, I'll just have to kill all your nobles until there's only one left." Helm flipped his knife around and turned Sandy so she was facing the others. Slowly, he drew the knife along the actress's collarbone and said, "Now, I want an answer this time. Whose castle is this?"

Katie heard movement, and one by one, the Imperial soldiers all turned to look at her. Confused, she looked around her and had an immediate explanation.

Not a single adult had moved, but three dozen children had. To them, "_whose castle is this?" _ was a question with only one correct answer.

Helm lowered his knife. "Well now…"

_No wonder the children panicked at seeing Sandy getting dragged. To them, she's Snow White..._

"...it seems your commoners have betrayed you…"

_And now, here we are, standing in Cinderella's Castle..._

"...your domain is under our control…"

_...in a restaurant called Cinderella's Royal Table..._

"...which leaves only one question."

_...and guess who's the one in the big blue ball gown?_

Helm reached out a hand and traced a finger from the back of her jaw to the tip of her chin. "What is your name?"

_Disney Service Basics Rule Three: I stay in character and play the part._

"Cinderella," Katie said.

The room was dead silent.

Helm's barking laughter broke through first. "_Cinderella?_" he said. "I've never heard a more ridiculous name in my entire life."

Katie did not immediately reply. She was still trying to decide what to say or do next. Her role as a face actor involved plenty of improvisation, but most of that was interactions with children. She tried to run back through the animated film scenes in her head (reasonably easy, given that the focus of the films were not Cinderella herself, but the mice) but most of those were Cinderella interacting with subordinates, or her stepmother, Lady Tremaine, as a meek and slightly argumentative maid. Against an invader or in a diplomatic capacity, both attitudes would get her killed.

Back to basics, then. Ilene Woods and 1950's charm. Nuclear Family attitude and values. "These people," she gestured to Sandy, on her knees and trembling, "my friend, they are all my guests. Please have mercy on them… please let them go."

"You're in no position to ask for anything," Helm snarled down at her. He pointed at one of the soldiers and said, "Take her down to Count Formal."

A pair of soldiers approached her, and while Katie expected to be grabbed like Sandy, they surprised her of doing nothing of the sort.

But then… of course they wouldn't. To them, she was royalty. _They needed her._

She took a few steps towards the staircase, then stopped and looked back at the people she was leaving behind. Coworkers, Actors, Guests. Well over thirty families. All watching her, all relying on her, all waiting for the next blade to fall. The youngest children, still sobbing, looked after her in terror. Would she die next?

She was an actress. Acting was all she could do, so she mustered what little smile she could, and repeated two words from a song she had sung just a couple of hours before.

"Have faith."

The children didn't stop crying, but they did nod. Above them, more than a few adults nodded as well.

As Katie descended the guest stairway back to the reception area, those nods stayed with her. That, she supposed, was truly what it meant to be royalty; people depending on you, hanging on your every word. A performance unlike any other.

She had to step up her game too. This next performance, if even a single thing was out of place, could cost her and everyone else their lives.

* * *

_Author's note_

To those of you wondering where the heck the military is, check back next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**6:05 PM - An Orlando Suburb**

Eugene Ackermann was still distracted and disinterested when he answered the knocking at his door. Nearing his seventies, his best days were well behind him, and this morning in particular he was feeling it in his back and knees. Being a Disney "Imagineer" was hard enough on him with all the walking involved during the work week, and being interrupted by someone else's urgency just as he was about to sit down for dinner was not his idea of a good time. If it was anyone other than the neighbors or family, he planned on telling them to go the hell away.

But the people at the front door were not who he was expecting. On the left, a middle-aged woman, wearing a blue jacket emblazoned with the letters FBI - JTTF. On the right, a young man in a military uniform with a grey digital camouflage pattern. The Federal agent started up the moment he opened the door. "I'm Judy Schroer, FBI. This is Corporal Lopez, Florida National Guard. Are you Gene Ackermann?"

Slowly, Gene nodded.

"May I see some ID?"

He pulled out his wallet and presented it to the woman who examined his Florida State Driver's License, nodded, and handed it back to him.

"There has been an incident at the parks. We need you to come with us."

Gene felt like he was going to fall through the floor. "An incident?" he repeated. He didn't like watching cable news or using a computer outside of work, and preferred half an hour with a good-old-fashioned newspaper over the alternatives. If something had happened, it was new to him. "You don't mean—"

"Time is critical, I can answer questions on the way."

"Yes… yes, of course."

They led him to a waiting car, and once they were on their way, he began firing off questions, but got frustratingly few answers.

"You say an incident… terrorists? It's not ISIS, is it?"

"Not ISIS," Judy said. "Beyond that, it's hard to say."

"Well, what did they do? Was there a bombing?"

"No."

"But people have died?"

"Yes."

"How many people?"

"We don't know."

"How could you not know!? Did they attack the parks or not?"

"We don't know because the situation at the Magic Kingdom is ongoing."

Gene tried to think about what that meant. "A hostage situation. There's a hostage situation in the Magic Kingdom."

"It's the other way around," Judy said. "_The Magic Kingdom_ is being held hostage."

Gene ran a hand through his thinning white hair and shook his head. "The whole… wait, no, no, that's impossible. You mean to tell me that a four-and-a-half million square foot theme park, containing fifty thousand tourists plus a few thousand employees, is being held hostage?"

"Yes."

"But… fifty thousand…"

"We think that two thirds to three quarters escaped, but we are still picking up people from the perimeter roads. We are trying to get a total headcount to compare with your company's ticketing database, but we believe that at least ten thousand people are still trapped in the park. We don't know how many people are dead because we haven't been able to get into the parks to check. All that we have to work with at the moment is drone footage, and while we know that deaths have occurred, we won't know exactly how many until it's all over. For now, assume that it's a three-figure number."

Gene felt like he was going to be sick. "Three figures" meant that whatever this was, it was in the top five deadliest terrorist attacks in American history.

"That still doesn't explain how a small group of terrorists could take control of the entire park," Ackermann argued.

"I never said they were small."

"How many?"

"Current estimates are upwards of thirty thousand and growing...not including heavy combatants and flying units."

"_Thirty thousand!?_ That's not a terrorist attack, that's a fucking invasion!" His eyes drifted over to the National Guardsman driving the car. "_How?_ Don't you have satellites, or something? How can you not notice tens of thousands of—"

"I'm not authorized to speak about that," Judy said. "You'd be better off waiting until we arrive at the forward operating base."

And for a while, that was that. The highway driving was just like any normal trip to Walt Disney World, and Gene didn't notice and significant differences until they reached the Magic Kingdom toll plaza.

There, two armies were facing off. Closest to them, a column of news vans stood across from a fleet of Orlando Police cruisers. By the toll booths themselves, officers were lined up, working to keep back nearly a hundred newscasters, cameramen, photographers, microphone boom operators, and directors away from the site. As they approached, several dozen lenses turned in their direction, and Gene was nearly blinded by the onslaught of flashbulbs. "OPD and Florida State Police is managing the outer perimeter, and other counties are lending units as well. We're keeping the media away for their own safety, and for the safety of the hostages," Judy explained. "In the meantime, guests staying at the resorts are being evacuated, or are otherwise being kept out of the locations surrounding Seven Seas Lagoon and Bay Lake."

"People could still break through on foot."

"There are other patrols deeper in. The final perimeter before the parks is controlled by the National Guard, and is roughly the land bracketed between World Drive and Floridian Way. The operating base is a ways behind that."

"Has the military been called in?"

"For now the President has ordered security forces from nearby bases to 'augment' the National Guard while he gets formal approval from Congress, but has publicly stated that he is treating the scope of the attack as an invasion. Everything east of the Mississippi and South of the Mason-Dixon has been activated."

They passed a flurry of civilian cars heading in the opposite direction, then encountered a massive traffic jam of cars and more ambulances than Gene had ever seen in one place and at one time.

"Polynesian's been taken over by the Red Cross, and we're trying to clear as many people out of the TTC as possible. Before I left, I heard that the Army Corps of Engineers was sending people in to clear off and open up the STOLport East of here."

"The Polynesian Resort is still pretty far from the parks," Gene remarked.

"Anyone in critical condition has already been airlifted to Orlando and Ft. Lauderdale… and anyone who didn't make it is in marked cold storage."

But all of this was nothing compared to what lay ahead. Past Fort Wilderness and over a drawbridge, they found themselves surrounded by military supply trucks and Humvees. In a field to the west, a Chinook helicopter was gently lowering an MRAP to join a dozen others parked nearby. And everywhere, _everywhere_ men and women in uniform. A handful were in FBI gear, but for the most part the civilian security component had been left behind.

The Contemporary Resort, and all the land around it, was now a military installation.

The car drove them right up to the front doors, and Judy passed Gene off to a soldier who whisked him around the main building to a series of large tents containing communication and planning equipment. Finally, the junior officer led him to a table at one end and presented him to the officer in charge, a man who looked at least three decades younger than Gene. "Captain Raymond Metzinger, 260th Military Intelligence." he said, extending a hand for a shake, "You're Gene Ackermann, right?"

Gene shook his hand and said, "I am, but I still don't understand why I'm here. It seems like you people have the situation well under control."

Metzinger pointed him to a chair and said, "The fact that the situation _isn't_ under control is exactly why you're here. You're the lead staff Imagineer for Magic Kingdom, right?"

Disney had originally coined the term "Imagineer" to add an element of whimsy to the army of engineers it employed to develop the "magic" that made the parks run, but to hear the term from a military officer under such serious circumstances only added to the strangeness of the day./

"I am, but the maps are all publicly available—"

"I want more than maps, I want someone who knows every door and hatch and can find his way through the HVAC system blindfolded. I'm told that's you. Can you help me?"

It was true that Ackermann had worked on the park for more than thirty years, but knowing his way through the vent system blindfolded was a bit of a stretch. "I'm not _that_ good, but I'm probably the best you can get, short of bringing my entire team in. I may also need to make some phone calls too, just to make sure you're using all the right maps."

The Captain nodded. "That's good enough. I heard that the FBI brought you up here. Did they tell you what's going on?"

"I know that the Magic Kingdom was somehow invaded by an army, and that a township's worth of guests is being held hostage."

"That's the simple version. They're smart enough to use guests and park staff as human shields, and they're packing them into the buildings or moving them in groups around their formations, perhaps to prevent us from going in with heavy weapons. We've never seen anything like it."

"I still don't see how something like this could have happened in the first place."

Metzinger folded his hands. "So they didn't tell you about the Gate?"

While the situation had been strange and disconcerting since the start, Gene was used to the idea of telling stories. His whole job revolved around using engineering to tell stories, and as such he had a good feel for what things an audience was willing to believe, and which things started to strain that belief. Since this was the real world, he had been generally able to accept most of what he had seen and heard so far, horrific as it was. The age of television meant that he had seen Vietnam, wars in the Middle East, and two planes rammed into skyscrapers. The engineer in him knew that every shocking or violent image was the product of something real and rational—War was, after all, just as much mired in Engineering as entertainment was.

Yet, the way that the Captain said "the Gate" suggested something outside of that picture, and his sense of stability started to crack. "Gate?" he repeated.

Metzinger pulled out a series of printed pictures, clearly collected from the internet and taken by cellphones on the ground. They depicted a large white building, simple but with some ornate, almost Romanesque design. "Around 4:45 PM, a Gate to another world appeared in Magic Kingdom and spat out an invasion army," the General said.

Gene waited for more, but that was all. "That's it?"

"Yes."

"But… that can't be everything. You need to have _something_ more than that!"

"Nope."

"Portals to other worlds don't just appear out of thin air!"

"This one did."

"That's not physically possible!"

"I'm not arguing with you on that. All we know is that a Gate to another world appeared smack-dab in the middle of the Magic Kingdom and let out an invasion army. We don't know where it came from. We don't know who made it. We don't know how it works. We don't know if it opened in the Magic Kingdom on purpose or by mistake. We don't know how it was able to target anywhere to begin with instead of winding up in the air or underground. We don't know if it can close and reappear somewhere else. We don't know if there will be more of them. We don't know if there already _are_ more, and we haven't found them yet. We don't know where the invasion army came from or who their leader is or what they want. _We. Don't. Know._" Metzinger tapped on the table to give each word emphasis. "We have the most expensive and expansive intelligence apparatus on the planet, and we're wandering blind. That isn't going to change until we regain control of the park. For now, don't worry about the Gate. Just help me with the park."

Gene took a deep breath. "You know, if this is...magic… we might be screwed no matter what we do."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

He nodded, slowly, rubbed his eyes, and said, "Okay… okay, let's get out some maps."

* * *

**6:15 PM - Behind Cinderella's Castle**

Ultimately Colt Formal decided not to intrude on Helm, and instead walked directly through the castle, turned left, and found himself examining a fountain.

It was not a large fountain; he had seen larger on palace grounds in Sadera, but it was recognizable as art, and so it gave him what he hoped was a window into the minds of the people that had commissioned it. The primary feature of the statue was a young maiden in plain clothes sitting atop a pile of rocks and talking to… creatures. Colt wasn't sure what to make of the other figures; they had animal features yet wore clothes, suggesting they were demihumans, but not a single creature was much longer than the maiden's hands. The maiden herself was looking away from an almost ghoulish bird perched on her left hand, and reaching down towards the other creatures by her feet with her right, a warm, almost motherly expression on her face.

Beside him, Lyla was curiously examining the statue, her green eyes glowing with curiosity as she scanned over the tiny beastmen. She was probably wondering the same things. Did such things really exist here? Was it fantasy? Was this perhaps meant to be taken symbolically about the place of demihumans in this world? Or was it something else entirely?

He heard the sound of approaching soldiers and turned to see a pair of Helm's men leading a young woman. She had bright blonde hair and was dressed in a sparkling blue ball gown and long pale blue gloves. To Colt, she appeared upright with the sort of decorum he'd imagine of royalty, but her face betrayed her nervousness.

This, he supposed, was the ruling noble, though it surprised him that it was a woman holding the position. In Falmart, women were allowed to inherit titles and maintain stewardship over land until their marriage, but they could not hold elected office in the Senate, and their power was deferred to the husband immediately after marriage. For instance, Colt knew that if something were to happen to him, control over Italica would fall to his third daughter, Myui, until she could be married to someone suitable.

Regardless, it was now time for diplomacy. Colt took off his helmet and tucked it under his arm, approached the noble and said, "My name is Colt Formal, Count of the Saderan Empire and Lord of Italica. I regret the circumstances of our meeting and hope that our interactions can restore some small amount of goodwill between your people and mine. To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"I am Cinderella—" she started, then hesitated, nodded and continued, "Princess of The Magic Kingdom."

Colt raised an eyebrow. "Princess?" It was an unusual idea. Had she been given direct control over a region so that she would be prepared to command an empire later on? Yet, the town seemed too complex for such an important function. And 'Magic Kingdom?' Lyla had yet to report any magic since they'd arrived, and the town they were in, while sizable, hardly qualified as a kingdom. He had once toured the Kingdom of Elbe and met with King Duran on a diplomatic mission, and yet even that tiny country had major towns and cities that covered more land area.

"Yes…" she said, then added, "Although, it's more of a title than a formal position. If you ask around, I am sure that you will find many other princesses around here, but most defer to me because I live in the biggest castle."

"Ah, I see, that makes much more sense." The Count felt more at ease with this revelation. The woman before him might be closer to his own rank if 'princess' was just a title, and would hopefully make for easier communication, knowing that both sides were of similar or equal station.

Next he extended a hand towards Lyla, "This is my court mage, Lyla El Scyanthall."

Lyla gave a polite bow, and as she did her ears twitched, drawing a shocked gasp from Cinderella. Colt gave her a wry grin and asked, "Is this the first time you've seen a demihuman?"

"Yes—I mean, not—It's somewhat difficult to explain."

Lyla's face drooped, and her ears along with it, and Cinderella shocked both of them by dropping down next to her so that they were at eye level with each other and adding, "But none of them are quite like you. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lyla, I hope we can get along!"

The girl's eyes went as wide as tea saucers. "Um, I'm just a commoner—" she said.

"So was I, at the start. But as long as you don't stop dreaming, you can be anything you want to be."

It was all Colt could do to keep his jaw from dropping open in bewilderment. To address a commoner in such a way… was she asking for a riot? And she _herself_ had started as a commoner? She had mentioned that 'Princess' was a title rather than a formal position, but Colt simply couldn't see how some girl could navigate the path from one to the other without marrying into the position or distinguishing herself in battle—and Cinderella certainly did _not_ have the acrobatic dancer's musculature of the Warrior Bunnies. She was just a regular soft noble. Perhaps she had orchestrated a coup d'état?

Seeing the blood rushing to poor Lyla's face, he decided that it was time to step in. "You must forgive both of us. The ways of your world are strange to us, and this is precisely why I was hoping we could sit down somewhere and discuss them further. I would consider doing it right here, but there is too much noise coming from the circular apparatus up the road."

"The circular… oh! You mean the carousel!"

"Yes, the 'ca-rou-sel'." the Amulet of Elange was good, but it was not much help when it came to actually wrapping his mouth around the new words. "What is its function, anyway? And does it produce noise like that all night?"

Cinderella appeared to struggle with the question, before slowly answering, "It is… a means of keeping children occupied while the adults are in court! Surely you noticed the horses? The whole thing spins."

Colt couldn't help the delight from leaking on to his face. "It _spins!?_" He didn't care that it was a device for entertaining children; he had seen wind and watermills, but the idea of such a large structure being able to rotate horizontally with no obvious external driver sparked his interest. "Remarkable! Do you know how to start it up?"

"I do not, but with your help we could probably find a tradesman who does."

Colt whirled to one of his guards and was about to follow through with the request when he caught himself. _Ah, yes, we're invading a country. I'm supposed to be gathering information._ He sighed, and, turning back to the Princess, said, "But there will be time for that later, I suppose. For now, I really would like to know more about this Magic Kingdom of yours."

Cinderella, meanwhile, had raised a gloved hand to her mouth to cover a smile. It was a courtly action, she meant him to see her reaction, and it was a good reminder that she was a noble. "How about this," she said, "Let me take you on a tour, and we can discuss these things along the way."

Even better! Colt hadn't had a chance to explore the town himself yet, and having a native guide would be a real treat! This way, he could gather information and make his own inquiries at the same time. "Excellent proposal. Shall we, Lyla?"

The young mage still had a bewildered, distant look on her face, her mind still back on Cinderella's words. On hearing her own name, she snapped back to attention, nodded, and the two started off in the direction of the Carousel.

The Princess, however, did not immediately follow them. Turning, Colt saw that she was looking at the statue upon the fountain, her eyebrows bent slightly in thoughtful determination. Gesturing at the statue, Colt asked, "Someone you knew?"

Slowly, she nodded. "A close friend… and a teacher, you could say." She smiled, lifting the skirts of her gown just enough to walk and said, "Now, let me show you part of _my_ world!"

* * *

**6:10 PM - Tom Sawyer Island (North), Fort Langhorn**

Of course, Fort Langhorn was a far cry from actually being like Fort Knox, but if offered more amenities than the cave Ethan and Emily had hid in earlier. It had bathrooms, for one, and a water fountain, all of which was hidden from outside view. It also had stairways leading up to four turrets and a gunner's nest, all of which had roofs, were enclosed spaces, and used thin slits instead of windows to look out onto the island around them. While the sound effects loop was grating, it was quiet enough to not draw much attention, and the sounds were not ones that could be mistaken for an approaching attacker.

At the moment, they were in the gun nest overlooking Thunder Mountain. They sat on a small staircase leading up to a pair of fake rifles that Ethan was too afraid to inspect closer, fearing some noisy Disney gimmick. Emily was curled up next to him, half-asleep on his arm, drained from the mental and emotional stress of the past few hours.

He was in the middle of trying to make a choice. Both of them had already eaten lunch, and the initial plan had been to find some counter-service restaurant for dinner. They had a few snacks, not enough for a meal… or really even half a meal.

Ethan was confident that they could skip dinner, and maybe breakfast if they were still in danger at that point, but then what? Fort Langhorn had plenty of clean water, but no food, and if the police or military didn't show up soon then they would start running into problems. He had heard somewhere before that a person could go at least two weeks without food if they still had water, but it wasn't a claim he was eager to try out… nor was it one that he wanted to force on Emily.

He looked down at his sister. Irritating as she was at times, focusing on her safety felt like it was the only thing keeping him sane. With no knowledge or control of the situation, Emily must have been terrified, and he wanted to see her back to safety, no matter what it took.

Of course, that begged the bigger question of what to do next. They could stay where they were for a little while, but it wasn't a permanent solution. He didn't know how far north this part of Tom Sawyer's Island went, or if Disney had hidden any utility structures up there, but he did know that the island really was an Island… there was a big white steamboat that traveled around it in a long, slow circle. He couldn't see the steamboat now, so he assumed that it was probably parked at its dock near Liberty Square. Regardless, it meant that if they wanted to leave, they would need to swim, and that posed another problem; Emily had taken swimming lessons at summer camp, but she was a weak swimmer and was afraid of deep water. If they could just get back to the other side…

...then what? In the park, the Roman soldiers and their monsters. Outside the park, Florida rainforest filled with alligators and bottomless mud pits and who knew what else? What if the rainforest went on for miles? He didn't know what was beyond the edges of the park; he'd had no reason to look.

Emily stirred and looked up at him. "Have a nice nap?" he asked.

She nodded, yawned, and asked, "When's dinner?"

"I have some snacks if you want them. We'll need to wait on dinner though."

"How long?"

"I don't know. The snacks are probably it."

"Oh." She stretched out her legs, stared at her shoes for a moment, then asked, "Are mom and dad gonna come get us?"

Ethan felt his gut tighten. "I guess. We might need to leave without them though."

Emily shook her head.

"Em—"

"We need them to go home," she said, starting to tear up again. "They won't let us go on the plane if they're not there."

Ethan grabbed her in a firm hug. "Hey," he said, "You've done great so far! We're not getting on any planes, we just need to find the police, okay?"

"I'm scared."

"And that's alright," he said, stroking her hair with his higher hand, "A lot of scary things happened. I bet there's a lot of scared people right now, so it's okay to be scared too."

"Mom and Dad too?"

He wondered about that. Earlier that day, his dad had mentioned Nine-Eleven. He had asked them questions about it for History class, and they mentioned how scared they were then. Was this how it was back then? How must they be doing now?

"Mom and Dad too," he answered.

"Are you scared?"

"I guess, but I have a cute little sister that I need to be brave for, so…"

And just like that, Emily burst into tears. "I have _the best_ big brother—"

Ethan let her sob, giving her an assuring squeeze, partially for her, partially for himself. Sure, he was scared, but they were going to escape this mess. They _had to._

In the end, he decided to put off moving anywhere until it got dark. For now, all they could really do was hold each other… and wait.

* * *

**6:10 PM - Crystal Palace, Restaurant**

It didn't take long for General Kagran to move his headquarters. The Gate had connected them to this world late in the day, after all, and so the options from the beginning had been to either build a tent, or use an existing structure. Helm observed that the place Kagran had chosen was a strange building, made mostly of glass, which gave it a good view of the Gate, town square, and Castle. Through the glass he could see the thousands of ready soldiers, giving their equipment one final check or praying to their god of choice. Helm couldn't quite understand why; the Gods had already blessed them with victory so far. It was the Empire that needed their faith at that moment.

Marquis Calasta poked his shoulder and indicated with a nod of his head that it was time to join the rest of the group. As they entered the glass hall, Helm noticed with some sense of amusement that this seemed to be another tavern or dining area. The people of this world did seem to like their dining; his men had reported strange food everywhere. One could barely walk ten paces without stumbling across another eatery or food cart. For their purposes, it meant that there was an abundance of available tables and chairs, many of which had been moved around to accommodate a grand strategy table in the middle of the building.

Around him, the other noble officers blabbered about their findings.

"...and when we broke in, it was another theater," Sir Mudra was saying in disgust. "Surely, with such a winding labyrinth of rooms, I had expected a shrine, or treasury, or _something_. How many fucking theaters does a town need?"

"You know the mountain in the West? The one with the waterfall?" Count Roen said, "I sent one of my men to examine the source, and they found pipes! They're piping the water to the top of the mountain just to send it back down!"

"I came upon a pavilion filled entirely with giant tea cups," Calasta said, blankly. "I… I have given up trying to understand."

"These people deserve to be conquered," Helm said simply. "Perhaps the Gods sent us to liberate them from their own stupidity."

The others at the table laughed, then, on noticing Kagran approaching, all stood at attention. This time, the General was accompanied by his second-in-command, a giant, bald, ogrelike man called Bororos. Kagran gestured for them all to be seated, walked to the head of the table, and said, "Let us discuss our next move."

"Begging your pardon, sir," Rouen said, "Count Formal is not here."

"That's intentional," Kagran said. "I don't need a scholar at a war meeting. Let him go pursue his hobbies."

Helm chuckled with the rest of the table, given as the phrase could be interpreted one of two ways: either his studios nature, or his devotion to inferior races. With so many demihumans serving as maids in his manor and his failure to remarry, the gossip among nobles was that he _had_ to be bedding at least one of them. The husbands of two of his daughters, Counts Roen and Missna, would usually deny this, but Missna was dead now and Roen, alone and outnumbered, wisely kept his mouth shut.

"We will proceed differently than we did with the Gate," Kagran said. "The Ogres and other beasts, managed by Marquis Calasta, shall lead. Bororos will command the main body of men, Mudra will direct the archers, and Roen will provide overhead cover."

He produced one of the many town maps and pointed. "The enemy and their carts have made a thin defensive line, here to the southeast. Our scouts report that they are defending a road which leads to their headquarters, a great building visible across the lake in that direction."

Kagran traced a route from the town entrance towards the road in question. "The land here is to our advantage. As you see, the available space spreads out into this wide area before the enemy lines, giving us superior numbers to work with. Should they counter attack, we would simply pull our men back to this narrow passage between the lake and the edge of the town, completely negating their numbers."

"Doesn't that leave the men bunched up and a good target for archers?" Roen asked.

"If that happens, the men will assume a tortoise formation. There are also many roofed buildings in the wider area, giving us natural protection from barrages. If the enemy was smarter, they would have set up their line there instead."

"What of the Police?" Mudra asked. Word had already spread of the strange elites and their tube-weapons that had cut down Missna, and while Helm was curious about the weapons, he did not fear them.

"According to Count Formal's surviving captain, the Police were unable to use their weapons until Missna and his horses were nearly on top of them," Kagran said. "If this is the case, then we will rush them before they have a chance to kill many men. Further, my scouts claim that the Police and their carts have fled, and are replaced with regulars in tan and green."

The General smiled and continued, "It is apparent that my opposite thinks they have used their elite units too quickly, and took them away once he saw our numbers. We will surely encounter them again, but exchanging their best fighters for commoners in earthy uniforms is but another sign of their stupidity. A general that does not wisely use the tools at his command doesn't deserve to hold the rank, and a wise officer can find the correct role for all of his resources.

"We shall continue to push down the road until we have the enemy General's headquarters. I want his corpse crucified upon the town entrance before nightfall. Ready your men, we march in half an hour. Dismissed."

Helm felt the rage building up in his gut as he lunged to his feet and shouted, "And what of me, Kagran?"

The General gave him a puzzled look. "What of you?"

"You would deny me glory of battle—"

"I would deny having all of the Crown Prince's friends in the same battle column, yes," Kagran said. "If some calamity were to cause me to lose Yourself, Mudra, and Calasta all at once, Zorzal would have my head. You lead the opening charge from the Gate. You captured the castle and its nobles. Glory is yours, let the others partake. This is a new world, and surely there will be more battles to come."

Helm couldn't help but scowl at the excuse. So Kagran was covering his own ass then? Despicable. "As my General commands," he said, and walked out. He would find his own glory, one way or another. It was the will of the Gods, after all. Hadn't the General just said that a good officer used _all_ of his resources? Emroy would surely punish Kagran for such cowardice.

And if he didn't… Helm had more than enough loyal men in this place. _More battles to come indeed._


	5. Chapter 5

**6:15 PM - Behind Cinderella's Castle, Northeast of the Carousel**

As with most improvised acts, the more Katie talked, the less nervous she felt. It was a strange experience, different from her usual interaction with children and their families, but similar in a handful of ways.

Imperial Officer Colt Formal was far more benign than that monster, Helm, had led her to believe. Rather than some iron-fisted tyrant, Colt was a middle-aged geek. She'd seen plenty of his type in the parks; software developers, mechanical engineers, cybersecurity consultants, physics professors… the list went on and on. People like that weren't there for the magic. While their families were watching the shows, they would be the ones looking at the lighting rigging in the ceiling, or leaning out the side of ride vehicles to see some visual trick, or pointing out the audio/pyrotechnician booth to a disinterested spouse or significant other. Katie couldn't help but wonder how things would be different if Colt had come as a tourist instead of an invader… she made a mental note to ask him if he had a family at some point.

Lyla was another story. The petite girl looked around twelve years old, and her robes suggested a thin, gangly figure. Colt called her a magician, but Katie had yet to see anything to explicitly prove that. There were plenty of other interesting things about her… the ears for one. Katie felt that she could have been forgiven for thinking that Colt, Helm, and the other pseudo-Romans were reenactors or cosplayers or part of the Society for Creative Anachronism, but Lyla was very clearly _not_ from Earth. Beyond some other subtle features, the way her ears twisted around on her head to every new sound was at once eerie and fascinating. That said, she was still very much a kid, and very much acted like one. She looked at new things with big wide green eyes, and Katie could practically see the gears spinning in the girl's head whenever she brought up a new idea.

That, of course, begged the question: what was she doing here? Had she been conscripted? She had heard horror stories of child soldiers in Africa and the Middle East, but surely the Imperials had other options than this poor girl…

"And all the other nobles live in this quarter?" Colt asked, "The architecture is quite unusual."

"Oh, yes," Katie said, "Belle lives over there, and Ariel lives over in that direction—"

"And this structure here, with the rails?" Colt asked, pointing at the Seven Dwarves Mine Train roller coaster.

"That's the Seven Dwarves mine," Katie said.

Colt looked back and forth between the roller coaster and her, before repeating "Mine?"

"Yes."

"In the middle of the Nobles' Quarter?"

"I don't see why not? None of us really mind."

"Wouldn't it make more sense to build the town next to the mine, rather than right on top of it?"

"It seemed more convenient at the time," Katie said. Honestly, she had little idea where she was going with this. The roller coaster was one of the more recent additions to Fantasyland, though she thought it better to play along with a guest's own logic than try to present her own suggestions. She couldn't imagine his views of dwarves digging a mine in the middle of a Noble Quarter to be much better.

"I should like to meet these dwarves," Colt said. "Are those tracks metal? Do they take armor commissions?"

"I'm sorry, they're miners, not smiths," Katie said. That part, at least, was true to the source material.

"In that case, which smiths in this town would you recommend?"

"Oh, we don't have any," Katie said, offering her best sheepish grin. "It's all imported."

"That must be expensive."

"Certainly."

"How do you pay for it all?"

"The… town has entrance fees," Katie explained. "It's a popular place, so the demand is always high, and the treasury is always filled."

"Where is this treasury?"

"Far away from here." She imagined that the Disney Corporation probably had its money put away in a variety of New York banks. Of course, Disney kept its own cash control in the park, but Katie guessed that US Dollar Bills wouldn't mean much to Colt or the people he worked for.

"It's so much, I wish I had a place to write it all down, but a quill, inkbottle and scroll under these conditions…"

"I know just the thing," Katie said and waved them further along and to the West. In a way, this was a blessing in disguise; Frontierland and Liberty Square to the West would be easier to explain away than, say, the Spinning Teacups or Dumbo the Elephant rides to the East.

She led them over to a small gift shop nestled between the Philharmagic queue and exit doors, strategically positioned in an attempt to get visitors to buy souvenirs immediately after exiting the 3-D show. As Lyla curiously poked at a shelf of stuffed Mickey Mouse plushies, Katie led Colt over to the main sales counter and presented him with a pen and autograph book. "There, you should be all set."

Colt looked at the two objects in confusion. "I don't understand," he said.

_Oh yeah, quills and scrolls._ Katie snapped open the autograph book, plucked the cap off the pen, and slowly demonstrated her signature on the first page… or Cinderella's signature, to be more precise. It was an action she did hundreds of times each day; so often that she could do it without looking down at the page.

When she handed the pen back to Colt, he held the point up to eye level with a delighted smile. "A quill and bottle all in one! Superb! Simply superb! I can't wait to bring this back to Italica, how much easier it would make things! How much cleaner!" He flipped the book around and tried a few lines himself, scrawling in the shorthand of a language that Katie couldn't read. "It's so smooth! And there's no drip! You could write notes anywhere with this! I must know the technique to making one!"

Katie held up her hands and said, "I wouldn't know, they too are imported from far, far away." China, probably. Maybe Indonesia or Vietnam.

"I see." Colt turned the book back to her again and asked, "What did you write here, by the way?"

That caught her off guard. "You can't read it?"

Colt pulled a necklace from the neckline of his uniform so Katie could see it. The pendant on the front was a dull-gray crystal, inscribed with mysterious runes and symbols. "This is an Amulet of Elange," Colt explained. "It translates my words to you, and your words to me, but it cannot understand writing."

Katie stopped. It was one thing to claim that a person was capable of magic. Guests, mostly children, did it all the time. To actually possess something magical… Katie found it hard to believe. "Really?" she said.

"Certainly, pay attention." He took the amulet off, and proceeded to toss it up into the air and catch it over and over again. "For a while, it _idem sonat redit_ catch it again, this is _quia non operatur _when it's directly _corpus de parte_." Colt placed it back around his neck and said, "See? Magic."

It was an impressive trick, but if it was really magic, then it was far more impressive than any of the smartphone apps that Katie had seen. "That's amazing!" she said. "Do all of you have one of those?"

"No, only Lyla and I and a few others," Colt said. With that Katie was finally able to put together a picture of what was going on. Only some of the officers like Helm and Colt spoke the language, and none of them could read. As a result, they had managed to miss the myriad of signs indicating that they had invaded a theme park, and those that could understand the spoken language were disinclined to listen to their captives. Making matters worse, their technology was over a thousand years behind, so they did not understand half the things they were looking at.

"But now that I have a means of taking notes, we should continue!" Colt said. "Come along, Lyla!"

Lyla, who was examining a collection of postcards, jumped at hearing her name. As Katie watched, the girl slipped one of the cards into a pocket in her robes, and the three started off again.

"Next question, and this has been bothering me since the carousel, is all of the music for cultural reasons or does it serve another purpose?"

_It's background music, it serves no purpose,_ Katie thought. "What do you mean?"

"For example…look at this," he lead her across the road, and Katie found herself wondering if she would have been better off with the spinning teacups.

In their mad flight from the park, the staff had left all of the electronics on. This meant the speakers, lights, water pumps, and area effects were all still working. As a result, when Colt led her into the front of the queue for It's A Small World, the damned song was still playing full blast. "This place, for example. I imagine that if we returned here in an hour, the same music would still be playing. I can't begin to imagine what this means for the musicians, but I feel as if the same thing is occurring everywhere in this town. It's nearly impossible to escape the music. How is it that your commoners do not go insane, and why do this to begin with?"

Katie thought about it. "Tradition, I suppose. The founder liked these things, and so we allow them to continue. Didn't you say you were the lord of a city? Wouldn't you wish for your traditions to continue after your passing, no matter what other people say?"

It was meant to go after his ego, but Katie was intrigued to see Colt look over at Lyla, and Lyla look back at him. "My apologies," Colt said, "I fully understand… even if the function of this particular tradition escapes me."

As they departed Small World, Katie took a risk and asked, "Lyla, what do you think of all of this?"

The girl looked over at Colt for permission, who nodded. "May I ask a question?" she said.

"Yes, of course!"

She looked away, embarrassed, steeled herself, and asked, "Do you… do you worship demihumans?"

Katie had no idea what to say to that, but looking at the shocked expression on Colt's face, the Count hadn't considered this either. The question had come as a bit of a surprise, and she hoped that she hadn't let it slip onto her face. "Why do you ask?"

"The symbol of the three circles, I've seen it everywhere." She pulled the postcard from her pocket and presented it. "This is your god, right?"

Katie took the postcard, and on looking at the picture clamped down her jaw, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath in an effort to not burst out laughing.

Staring back at her was a big, smiling portrait of Mickey Mouse.

"No, he's not our god," Katie said.

"Then is he your king?"

"Mickey's more like a famous celebrity. He does not rule us, but we owe a lot to him."

Lyla cocked her head to the side, trying to piece together what that meant in terms of social hierarchy.

"I guess you could say he is our hero," Katie supplied.

That term the girl understood. She nodded and, with a satisfied look on her face, tucked the postcard back into the robe pocket.

Colt, as expected, wanted to know more. "How did he earn the title?"

More Disney trivia. It wasn't like they would accept 'Because he made Walt a shitload of money.' Better string together the shows, she supposed. "He was an apprentice of the Sorcerer Yensid, which gained him a lot of attention. He remains locked in nightly combat with an enormous dragon several miles southwest of here."

"I see," Colt said. "Do you think our men will encounter him on the battlefield?"

"I doubt it."

"I'm grateful to hear that. Please understand that I will have to pass along this information to my superiors, however."

Katie nodded. _Sure, you go tell your leaders that the Almighty Mickey Mouse won't be meeting them in combat. It'll be the least of their problems._

As they approached the edge of Fantasyland, Katie had to fight a twinge of nervousness. Disney World was built using lessons learned from Disney Land, and one of these was that characters from one area should not be seen traveling in another, in fear of breaking immersion. Cinderella was never supposed to walk into Liberty Square, and actors could lose their jobs for doing something like what she was about to do. Unfortunately, these were special circumstances. She took a deep breath, and followed the others into a new land.

Compared to the faux-stone architecture of Fantasyland, Liberty Square leaned towards early 19th century Georgian designs. Colt noticed the difference too and asked, "What quarter is this?"

"I suppose you could call this our political quarter? Members of the government that aren't nobles live here."

"Interesting. There's a similar quarter in Sadera. May I meet them?"

Katie tried to picture taking Colt into the Hall of Presidents. She remembered the uproar from the minority party when they first installed the President Dirrel animatronic, and complaints on TV that the speech was too hawkish. _He must be having fun right now,_ she thought. _Speaking of which, where's the Army? Where's the Marines? Shouldn't they have responded by now?_ "They're not in session today because it's a weekend, and they go to other towns where their homes are."

"And you're not just hiding them? I promise you that I mean them no harm."

"I believe you… and I don't think they'd be bothered that much if they were present." Come to think of it, Colt and Lyla would probably feel more threatened by the robotic caricatures than the other way around.

Speaking of which… a rumble of thunder and the howl of a wolf broke her line of thought and caused Lyla to jump, then jog ahead a few dozen feet. Colt followed quickly after her, and was reasonably quick to notice the house on the hill with its chesspiece-shaped chimneys. "What's that?" Colt asked.

"That? That's the Haunted Mansion."

Lyla's eyes went wide with alarm. She pushed Colt back with one hand and flipped her staff forward with the other. To Katie's amazement, the end of the staff began to glow. This wasn't the steady glow of an incandescent bulb or LED, but it seemed to flicker and sparkle in a truly mesmerizing effect. The Amulets of Elange had been strange, but could easily be reproduced as a prank. Something like Lyla's staff would be substantially harder to fake.

She didn't have much time to observe it though. Lyla relaxed and lowered the staff, and the glow vanished. "I do not feel any undead in that house."

_Shit._ Katie hadn't thought about this. If Colt and Lyla really did come from a land where magic was real, then the Haunted Mansion was the first place they'd debunk. This was potentially very bad. "Oh, they're hiding, that's all."

Colt shot her a confused look. "How can you be so calm about a source of Necromancy _within the walls of your town!?_"

"The ghosts keep to themselves," Katie said, trying to keep her breathing even and her face a mask of calm. "We rarely see them outside of the Mansion—well, except for during parts of October—"

"M'lord, I can investigate if you wish," Lyla said.

"That might not be a good idea—"

"I'm sorry if this upsets you, but I must see to the safety of my men," Colt said. "Let's go. If they are willing to live peacefully with the Princess, perhaps I can parlay with them."

"But M'lord!"

"Princess Cinderella shall accompany us. I doubt they'll cause trouble if she is there." He turned to look at her and added, "If it means anything to you, I have three daughters to return to, and Lyla has five sisters and parents that depend on her income. Can I rely on you for safe passage?"

Of course, there was nothing in the Haunted Mansion that could actually harm anyone; it was her own neck that Katie was worried about. "If—if we must—"

But the two were already charging on ahead, past the pair of Imperial soldiers stationed to guard the gate and into the queue. Katie rushed after them, bunching up the skirts of her gown out of fear of catching it on the chain-link fencing. She didn't catch up with them until the entrance of the ride building itself, only to find that Lyla had stopped dead.

Before them, the Haunted Mansion foyer was silent, dark and foreboding. That didn't seem to be why the girl wasn't moving. "A chill…" she said.

Katie thanked the fact that they hadn't turned around to see her. Compared to lighting and music, the most alien thing they were experiencing was stepping out of the Florida heat and into air conditioning. That was fine, she needed all the stalling time she could get. She hurriedly looked around the room; it had to be there, somewhere, it just _had to!_

Of course, the Disney Imagineers had been very careful when designing this part of the experience. It wouldn't do to let the guests see the technology behind the magic, but this time Katie was saved by an unusual occurrence; the cast member that was normally standing just within the door was not there (likely captured with the guests) and so she could see the black-painted control panel recessed into the wall along the left-hand door frame. Upon it lay a large, black pushbutton. If it was what she thought it was, she might just be saved.

Lyla had finally worked up the courage to walk into the Foyer, and Colt followed closely behind. Playing the role of the absent cast member, Katie pulled the doors shut behind them, whispering, 'It's the light."

Now in the semi-darkness of a hundred fake candles, faced by a dimly lit portrait of a gentleman in Edwardian garb, and absolutely certain that she wouldn't be seen, Katie pushed the button.

The organ music loop started up, and Lyla jumped. Colt placed a hand on her shoulder. "More music," he said with a grim smile, "I wonder—"

"_WHEN HINGES CREAK IN DOORLESS CHAMBERS..."_

This time, both jumped, and Colt's head whipped around looking for the source of the sound. "Lyla—"

"_...AND STRANGE AND FRIGHTENING SOUNDS ECHO THROUGH THE HALL…"_

The young mage had her staff up again, a panicked look on her face as she swung the glowing end from side to side.

"..._WHENEVER CANDLELIGHTS FLICKER, WHERE THE AIR IS DEATHLY STILL_…"

"_The Amulet isn't working!"_ Colt hissed. By now, Lyla was shaking her head, and the end of the staff was starting to shudder.

"..._THAT IS THE TIME WHEN __**GHOSTS**__ ARE PRESE_—"

Lyla broke and ran, busting her way past the doors and back into the sunlight. Colt raced after her leaving Katie all by herself.

"Practicing their terror with _ghoulish_ delight," Katie finished for the 'Ghost Host', with somewhat of a self-satisfied smirk. She wondered if perhaps she had gone too far in trying to convince them… but then, what would she have done otherwise? Taken them on the ride? Was the ride still running? She sighed, gathered up her skirts once more, and followed the pair back out the door.

Poor Lyla was shuddering by the two guards at the front gate, and Colt was trying his best to calm her down.

"...impossible, it said there was nothing there, nothing!" she was babbling. "They were right on top of us and I couldn't feel them at all!"

"Lyla, look at me—look!" Colt was holding her by the shoulders. "I need you to focus. Not only did your staff not detect them, but the Amulets of Elange didn't work. I didn't understand what they were saying at all, and these were made by masters in Rondel."

That was an interesting development. Colt had told Katie earlier that the Amulets weren't able to translate writing, but perhaps the only reason they _were_ able to translate spoken words was because the person being talked to was actually present? For an audio recording, there was no person, and so nothing for the magic to work on.

"I need to know what would cause that much magic to fail," Colt said. "Anything, even a guess."

"To hide so much magic, either there is a very powerful sorcerer, or a legendary curse within that house." The wolf howl sound effect sounded again and this time Lyla curled away from the noise. Katie decided that it was time to do damage control.

"I talked with the ghosts," she said. "They're sorry for scaring you, but they wish to be left alone."

"The fault is with me," Colt argued. "I am the one that pressured her to go in, even though you told us it was a bad idea."

"W-What!?" Lyla said, "No, m'lord, it was completely my fault, and—"

"I'll hear no more of it, we shall continue our walk." He looked up at the soldiers by the queue and added, "This place is unsafe. It would put me more at ease if you were to pull back the guard to the intersection of that street, there." He pointed, and the guards didn't need to be told twice.

Katie led her guests further down the street to get them away from Haunted Mansion, then stopped halfway through at a snack cart, plucked a chocolate Rice Crispy treat from the storage compartment and handed it to Lyla. "Here," she said, "this should help a bit. It's food and it's sweet. Do you mind if Count Formal and I talk privately for a moment?"

The girl looked back and forth between them and Colt nodded, adding, "You go on ahead. Keep the river on your right and we'll catch up."

Lyla politely bowed and trotted a few steps down the road, engrossed in opening the packaging of the snack. Her posture was tired and slumped over, strongly suggesting to Katie that she hadn't accepted anything Colt had said about her responsibility in the last several minutes. "What is her story?" Katie asked Colt.

Colt folded his arms. "How do you _really_ feel about demihumans, Cinderella?"

Having only met one, she didn't have much of an opinion, but Katie knew what Cinderella would say. "They are simply people, and you should treat them nicely, as you would anyone else."

"It's a relief to talk to someone else who feels that way," Colt said. "In the Empire, demihumans are second-class citizens at best, slaves at worst, and it's all largely our own fault. The son of the Emperor ran many campaigns into far-off territories, destroyed the leaders of demihuman tribes, and then enslaved whole races. Racism means that many of those who do gain their freedom wind up in the slums. I had a chance to be on one of these campaigns many years ago, and it made me vow that I would treat demihumans with dignity. In my town, Italica, demihumans have equal rights before the law and ensured freedom… but people are not so easily changed. They are still paid poorly. My youngest daughter Myui, bless her soul, seems to understand, but I worry that she will be too timid to enforce those ideals after she marries.

"As for Lyla? When I see a demihuman of promise, I make a point of hiring them into my personal manor. On my maid staff alone, I employ the former Chief Scout of the Warrior Bunnies and an expert in interrogation and counterintelligence from the endangered Medusaid race. I discovered Lyla and her family in a refugee camp outside the town walls; their own village had been burnt to the ground by a Flame Dragon. I learned that the inspectors from Rondel had passed on her due to her race, but I have no such preconceptions. Lyla has been my own private mage-student for the past four years."

"Four _years?_" Katie reeled at the idea… to employ a child old enough to belong in Kindergarten—

"Is that so unusual for commoners in your worlds? Wouldn't they start to learn a trade?"

"No, they're all at school!"

"All of your commoners are educated!?"

"Well, why shouldn't they be?"

Colt thought about it, gave a silent partial laugh and pulled out the ballpoint pen once more. "I think I understand now, how you can have such a ridiculous town, yet still produce marvels like this. Have faith in enough people, and invariably you will turn up more gems."

"Isn't that what you do with demihumans?"

"Ah, you caught me!" Colt chuckled. "I am glad that we are having this chance to talk."

Katie nodded, but looked up and noticed that Lyla had stopped. She was looking across the river, towards the island. "See something?" Colt asked her.

Lyla appeared to think about this, but ultimately shook her head. "No, m'lord."

As the two went on their way, Katie took her own quick glance across the river. She couldn't see any movement there, and she wondered, not for the first time, how the other hostages were managing.

She sighed and rushed to catch up again. She didn't see anything, and if Lyla had, perhaps it was a mercy of hers to say nothing about it. Better to be on the mainland and know what was going on, than be some poor sap stuck alone and in the dark on Tom Sawyer Island.

* * *

**6:30 - Tom Sawyer Island (North), Fort Langhorn**

"That was close," Ethan said, ducking back down below the gun slit. There was no way that the group on the shore had seen them, the slit was too narrow and they were too far away, but the girl with the robes and the staff _had_ looked in their direction. Directly at them, from Ethan's perspective.

Next to him, Emily appeared very confused. "Why is Cinderella with the bad guys?"

"Dunno," Ethan said. It made sense that some of the other hostages would try to talk with their captors, but he found it bizarre that they had picked one of the actresses, of all people. Wouldn't a janitor or technician be a better choice? "For now, keep quiet, keep low, and I'll keep an eye on them."

* * *

**6:30 - Contemporary Resort**

"There are just a handful of entrances to the park designed to accommodate vehicles," Ackerman was explaining. He pulled up a PDF of the tourist park map and presented it to Metzinger. It was the best he could do until an engineer from elsewhere in the resort returned with the high-definition schematics he'd ordered. "The first two are the obvious ones at the very front of the park. The others have entry points at virtually every subsection on the map. That includes the parade doors at the front left side and parking lot doors on the front right side of Main Street, this one next to Ariel's Grotto, this one down by Pirates of the Caribbean, and the parade entry and exit doors by Splash Mountain."

Metzinger nodded while an NCO took notes. "That gets us through most of the park, but I'm worried about this," he pointed at the moat around the park's central hub. "These bridges, how much weight are they designed for?"

"Most of them are foot traffic only. Only the two that run parade routes were really designed to support the weight of vehicles; that would be the one from Main Street, and the one from Frontierland… but the weight in the specs is for parade floats and construction equipment. If you plan on rolling an Abrams tank over them, I'll need to get back to you with more precise numbers."

Metzinger looked over at one of his aides and said, "Have the Engineering Corps check and see if we can bridge some of these with an M104, just in case we need to move armor."

"The thing is," Ackermann said, "This is all fine and dandy for making it to the Gate, but there's still thousands of civilians trapped in there. If you go in guns blazing—"

"Yeah, we know," Metzinger tapped the edge of the table. "I'd send in Special Forces, but the number of enemies…"

As he was thinking, a 2nd Lieutenant rushed into the room with a printed sheet. "They're mobilizing," he said. "They might be about to attack us."

Metzinger looked at the Lieutenant in shock, then down at the printout again. "Are they nuts?" He said, "They'll be slaughtered! Any signs of human shields?"

"The Global Hawk up there has pretty good resolution, so unless they're putting our civilians in their uniforms, I don't think so, sir."

The Captain gave an irritated sigh, looked back at Ackermann and said, "If this empties out the park enough, we may be able to move forward with the Special Forces idea after all. By the time I get back, I want options."

Metzinger left the table, followed by his entourage, and Ackermann shook his head. Some of the older engineers back in the early days used to talk about battles in Korea, and how the United States had tailored its tactics to counter human wave attacks. Whatever these other-world idiots were about to do, they were about to play right into the hands of a force that had been training against this exact kind of attack for nearly half a century. He almost felt sad for the poor bastards.

Almost.

* * *

**6:45 PM - Magic Kingdom Entry Plaza and Bus Terminals**

From his Wyvern, Count Roen could see the entire army in all of its glory, from the heavy units at the front to the archers in the rear. It was a splendid sight; rarely did one see the might of the Empire out in full display, and these men were the best of the best, handpicked from every town and city for this all-important mission. Raiders from Telta, expert marksmen from Beza, Saderan javelin masters, all arranged in the largest fighting column since the Arctic War. It made Roen proud to be an Imperial citizen, and the idea of watching them all join battle excited him.

It seemed to be exciting his mount as well. His wyvern shifted in place, wings extended and ready to leap into the air. Roen reached forward and patted the long scaly neck, whispering, "Soon. But a moment more."

At the head of the column he could just see Bororo, white cape flowing, lance held above his head. Even from his spot atop the building, Roen could hear him. "Forward! Forward for the Empire!"

The column moved as one body, its march ordered, its formations perfect. Roen checked his leg restraints one more time, hefted his attack lance, and gave his steed a firm slap. From years of training, the Wyvern knew what to do. He could feel the muscles bunch beneath him, then surge as the beast lunged into the air. A glance behind him confirmed that the other members of the Wyvern Corps were following suit, and together they assumed a stacked guard pattern, with a higher density of riders circling low, while progressively fewer riders circled higher up, both providing top cover and scouting for enemies at a distance. One of these scouts waved to Roen and pointed with his lance.

After gaining two dozen feet of altitude, Roen saw them too. The people of this world had built their defensive lines just beyond the entrance to the town, on the other side of a place where the road forked around many grey-roofed pavilions. This meant that there was virtually nothing but flat land between the two armies. The enemy wasn't even trying to hide; their garish tan vehicles stood out against the black roads and thick green foliage. The units with the blue and red lights were not present, as Kagran had said, leaving these men and their equipment. Though Roen had exceptionally good eyesight, he couldn't see a single trace of bowmen among the enemy lines, nor siege equipment, armored beasts, or columns of men with spears or swords. If anything, the men he saw were all gathered around the vehicles, some peeking out from around the sides, others sitting comfortably within hatches atop, and some were simply stretched out on the ground or vehicle roofs. Some had built small knee or waist-high walls of fabric bags, and were cowering behind these as well. Roen couldn't help but grin, _this was too easy!_

He descended to hear Bororos shout at their adversary, "In the name of the Saderan Empire, lay down your weapons and surrender, and we will let you live as laborers for the folly of opposing us!"

Roen was surprised to hear the opposition shout back, in a voice many times more powerful. Unlike Count Formal or Viscount Helm, Roen did not have an Amulet of Elange, and so he could not understand what was being said. Either way, he could tell from the tone that the message was brief, insolent, and jeering.

Perhaps that was for the best. If he had possessed the magical translator, he would have heard, "THIS IS THE FLORIDA NATIONAL GUARD, _**YOU ARE IN RANGE.**_SURRENDER OR WE WILL SHOOT!"

Bororos hesitated, but only for a moment, he whipped his sword out, pointed at the enemy, and shouted "Char—"

There was a crack like lighting, and the Second-in-Command's head vanished from his shoulders.

Roen pulled his beast up and away, trying to comprehend what had just happened. From a distance of nearly a hundred yards, the enemy had unleashed a strange magic that had killed Bororos, as surely as—

It was then that Count Roen realized that they had made a huge mistake. Each of the men in tan held one of the long black tubes. There were hundreds, if not thousands of these tubes pointed at them, and unlike before, they did not have a shield of town commoners to stop what was about to come next.

An enemy officer shouted a command, and a hellstorm engulfed the Imperial forces. Unlike the 'Police' from before, these weapons fired continuously, and the men were falling in droves. On the ground, a terrified Marquis Calasta was nearly trampled by his own retreating ogres, and the front of the formation collapsed in confusion as the front line clashed with the reserves in an effort to escape the tsunami of gunfire.

Meanwhile, Mudra organized his archers into a firing block in an attempt to fight back. They fired as one, the dark cloud of arrows making an eerie whistling noise as it rushed through the air. For a moment—mere seconds, some of the gunfire stopped as the men dropped behind their carts or fabric bags. Perhaps that was the key? If they could just keep the enemy pinned—

As Roen was about to signal his men to dive on the enemy line, a rapid thumping noise from the south caught his attention. Three flying objects appeared from beyond the lake. Roen had never seen anything like them before—the squat boxy frames, the glass canopy revealing twin riders, and a mysterious grey cloud that hovered above each flier, like rain beneath a far-off storm but squashed into a thin disk. He pulled on the reigns of his Wyvern, forcing it to roar to draw attention, then hand-motioned for the other members of his corps to engage the new foe.

The first of his men charged the flying object directly. For a moment, Roen thought that the beast would succeed in grappling the flyer, but as the Wyvern rotated to grab with its talons, its neck passed through the grey disk. The beast bumped harmlessly against the vehicle and tumbled away, its body plummeting lifeless to the ground, its head careening into the far distance. The machine appeared to spin and wobble before breaking off and running back to the south.

Perhaps there was a chance of beating them? "From below, below!" Roen bellowed, gesturing with his lance. Another Wyvern rider made the attempt, only for the metal flyer to skate, unfazed, to the side, like some demonic hummingbird. Indeed, both were maneuvering around so that they were practically over the town, their noses pointing away from the castle and straight at Roen's men. Below the nose of each, a series of tubes at the front jumped to life, spinning rapidly around each other—

_BRRRRRRR_

More Wyverns fell from the sky.

The Count's own Wyvern dodged, just barely in time to miss the line of death that was slicing through his men. For a moment he could see the round, helmeted head of the man flying the death machine, turning in its compartment like some monstrous eyeball, the end of the spinning tubes following in quick synchronization.

Below, Mudra had noticed the new threat and had pointed all of his archers up at the nearest assailant. Yet another cloud of arrows, one which could have been used to help the men on the ground, instead went up into the air where some bounced harmlessly off the metal belly of the westmost of the pair. This flyer turned away from the wyverns, observed Mudra for a fraction of a second, then unleashed a fountain of smoke trails from the cylindrical pods it carried.

Count Mudra, and the hundreds of tightly-packed archers at his command, vanished in a cloud of flames and shrapnel.

Apparently, this was not enough for the flying horrors. They turned together, and the weapons that had initially cut through Roen's Wyverns were unleashed on the terrified mass below, raking great gashes through the routed army. Between the death pouring in from the east and the death raining down from above, what was once the mightiest army in Falmart disintegrated into a bloody mess of limbs and screams and organs and shouts and blood and fear, a gruesome human paste that shrieked as it was ground down from all sides.

Roen no longer understood what was going on, above or below. All he understood was that he needed to retreat immediately. He wheeled his wyvern around, and fled in the direction of the lake. The land outside the town was not safe, and the town could not protect him from the things he'd seen. The best he could do at that point was try to locate another nation, hopefully make allies, and avenge the fallen somehow. If only he had more time, he just had to outrace the two flying machines...

This was the Count's final mistake. Looking around he realized that he was alone over the lake. The rest of the wyvern corps was gone, wiped out by the hovering monsters. Mudra was dead, Bororos was dead, and with his proximity to the front, there was no way Calasta could have survived. There was only him, the open sky, and the silvery speck almost directly overhead that had turned in his direction.

Perhaps it would have amused Roen to hear that the object, an Air National Guard F-15C, was flying at nearly stall speeds to set up the shot properly, and that the stunt would be the closest any Imperial would come to killing a member of the American military that afternoon. Unfortunately for the Count, the Boeing fighter jet won its fight with gravity just long enough to line up its 20mm Vulcan canon and fill the air with PGU-28A/B explosive rounds.

Count Roen and his wyvern were dead before they hit the water.


	6. Chapter 6

**7:30 PM - The Crystal Palace, Restaurant**

The nature of Florida as a peninsula means that it rains every summer day, consistently, for at least an hour or so. Sometimes it was earlier in the day. Sometimes it was later. This time, it was as the last few survivors of the battle crawled back behind the barricades. Many were horribly burnt. Others had great gashes or lacerations where a bullet had grazed them. Nearly a quarter begged for water, and then collapsed from blood loss, never to rise again. None dared to go out and inspect the grisly mounds of blasted body parts that were now piled up in the bus terminal.

From an initial attack force of fifty thousand, about nine hundred had returned alive and unharmed. Another fifteen hundred had crawled, stumbled, or been carried back into the park. The defeat had taken less than an hour.

No single war, natural disaster, or god-sent calamity had ever struck such a powerful blow to the Empire. Colt Formal was unsure if the gods themselves even _could_ loose such destruction upon the realm of men. Just the same, he had rushed back to the town's central square at the sound of the explosions. By then, the battle was already over, and tents were being erected to keep the rain off the dead and the dying.

After asking Lyla to escort Cinderella back to her castle, Colt stepped in to the glass dining hall that Kagran had been using before. A table had been set in the middle for a large war council of nobles and officers. Now, the only people present were Colt's last Captain, Viscount Helm's Junior officers, and Kagran's single surviving Lieutenant.

Kagran himself sat at the end of the table, his visage grey and exhausted, while Helm ranted besides him.

"I told you, I told you this would happen!" Helm raged, "It was the will of the Gods that I be out there today. You held me back, and now look where we are! Zorzal will have your head when he hears about this! You old, insolent—"

"_Viscount Maio, sit down!"_ Colt spat.

Helm sneered back at him, but dropped back into his seat nonetheless. The Lord of Italica pulled up a chair next to the General and asked, "What happened out there?"

"We lost," Kagran said, and nothing more.

"Was it the Police?"

"No. Worse. Men in tan. They… my men..."

"How many men do we have left?"

"About… nine thousand? There… there are still enough to hold the commoners, and the barricades…" he shook his head, "Yet they do not attack the barricades, and they wait upon the commoners, _why, why, WHY?_" He looked up at Colt and asked, "Did you find _anything?_"

"They call this place the Magic Kingdom, and I have already found one instance of powerful dark magic at work," Colt said. "All these strange structures, nonsensical architecture, the only reason I can think of is that it's designed to contain or manage a very powerful secret, perhaps magic, perhaps something beyond that. I suspect that if we can locate the source of this secret, and the way this relates to the commoners, then we will have some means of leverage."

Kagran's eyes widened slightly with a spark of hope. "A weapon?"

"It's too early to say. I still need time to find it—"

"_To hell with waiting,_" Helm spat. "General, send for the reserves on the other side of the Gate, and I will lead them to glorious victory—"

"Just like Bororos and Roen and the others?" Colt argued. "We are clearly outmatched. The secret of this place is the _only_ thing ensuring our survival. We _must_ gain control of it, and we must do so before our enemies use it to their own advantage and strip us of our final defense."

Slowly, Kagran nodded. "Colt, you have already explored the West side, correct? Explore the east side of the town. Helm, go back to the West side and see if Count Formal missed anything."

He rose and said, "I shall manage the remaining men. The survival of our forces, and the success of the whole campaign, I now place both in your hands. Dismissed."

* * *

**7:32 - Magic Kingdom "Hub"**

When Katie imagined the idea of magic, she imagined bolts of lightning and beams of energy and floating objects. So far, her two experiences with 'magic' had been Colt's Amulet of Elange, which could be faked, and Lyla's detection spell, which consisted of a cool light effect around a stick to no apparent function.

This was why the spell that Lyla was casting was so profound to Katie. Despite the regular Florida downpour, the droplets seemed to slide away from them in a three-yard bubble. It was the strangest thing that she had ever experienced, but it was delightful in its own simple, sweet fashion. Noticing Katie's reaction, Lyla explained, "I—I know it's a waste, but I don't like getting wet, and you are a princess, so…"

Her statement drifted and the two started back for the Castle. The streetlights kept the Hub area lit despite the rain and overcast sky, and so Katie had a clear view towards the train of injured that were being carried off in stretchers and carts back through the Gate. Like Colt she had only learned of the ensuing battle by hearing the gunfire and explosions, and for a moment she was terrified that the air around her was about to be filled with bullets. This hadn't happened, nor did a column of tanks suddenly come charging down Main Street, so she initially assumed that the attack had inexplicably failed. The line of dead and dying painted a different story though; the military was waiting just outside, and they were not yet willing to enter the park. They were probably afraid of hurting densely packed civilians, which made sense, but Katie wished that they would intervene anyway so she could go home.

She noticed that Lyla was also looking over at the line of injured soldiers. Of course, she imagined that the girl had a very different view on what was going on. If anything, she looked like whatever weight had been pressing down on her since they'd first met had only gotten heavier. That made sense; her side was losing.

A kid was still a kid, after all, and she deserved better than this, but Katie wasn't sure what she could do. Make her defect? Never—she couldn't imagine Lyla giving up her family on the other side of the Gate. Perhaps she could brighten the girls mood a little? That was also a tough ask, and it might not yield any benefits, but perhaps if Lyla was sympathetic to the people of Earth, she could help them survive? It was worth a shot.

After all, making kids believe in something was her forte.

"Can we stop somewhere for a moment?" Katie asked.

"Why?"

"I'd just like to talk. That spot over there has an overhang." She pointed at one of the AV booths that overlooked the Castle stage, and the dry area underneath it, and they walked there together. Once they arrived, Katie leaned against one of the interior walls. She longed to sit down—she had been on her feet for hours now—but for the moment this conversation was more important. Lyla lowered her staff and the magic disappeared.

"What did you want to talk about?" Lyla said.

Katie dropped down so they were eye level. "I was hoping to talk about you. Are you okay?"

Lyla's ears drooped. "That's… not important," she said. "As long as I can do my duty—"

"It's very important," Katie said. "You must be under a lot of stress. I'm not allowed to worry about a girl that looks sad?"

"As long as I can serve my lord—"

"The Count told me about your family."

Lyla's ears went up and her face went a light pink with embarrassment. "What—did he say anything?"

"He said that you have a family—a lot of siblings too, and that you're doing this help them."

She nodded once, stopped, thought about it, and nodded some more.

"That's very brave of you. It must be very hard."

Lyla nodded again, and then, to Katie's surprise, she broke into tears. "It's not enough," she said. "I'm not enough."

"Oh Lyla—"

"I'm n-not brave enough." she said. "I was s-supposed to protect Captain B-Breccus, and he died because I w-was scared of the fire-sticks. I was supposed to protect L-Lord Formal from the g-g-g" she heaved a sob, "and I _ran away_. _I ran away and left him to die._ If they die, how will I help my family? If _I _die, how will I help my family!? I—I can't—"

She dropped to her knees, face hidden in her hands. Crying children were nothing new to Katie either, but those were all different cases. Some kids cried because they were too young to understand who she was. Some fell over in their race to meet Cinderella and cried from that. Some cried because they were tired or spoiled or bored. Never, not in all the months and years of her job, had she seen a child cry because of the lives she held in her hands.

Slowly, Katie drew one of her gloves off and ran her hand through Lyla's hair. What she really wanted to do in that moment was hug her, but she just wasn't sure if that was too much. Instead, she continued to slowly brush her hand through the girl's hair until the sobbing began to slow.

What could she say to all of that? She wanted to tell her that everything was going to be okay, that she was going to see her family again, but the train of injured and dead going back through the Gate bluntly refuted that idea.

There was really only one thing _to_ do, and that was go back to the fundamentals.

_Disney Service Basics #1 - I project a positive image and energy_.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"What?"

"If people weren't relying on you, if it was just for you, what would you wish for, if you could wish for anything in the world?"

"Anything?"

"Anything at all."

Lyla thought about it, and the response she gave was so simple and typical that Katie felt like she should have been expecting it. "I'd like to be a princess."

Katie couldn't help but smile. "Really?"

"Yeah. My family would be okay and there would always be food and new clothes and it would be dry during the rain and warm at night. And there would be guards so it's always safe, and big beds with clean sheets… Lord Formal's manor is like that. I wish I could be a princess in Lord Formal's manor."

It was an interesting perspective too, Katie thought. To Lyla, being a princess didn't mean castles and riches and pretty dresses. It meant security. It meant a _home_.

"But that can't happen," Lyla said. "There aren't any demihuman princesses."

"Maybe you'll be the first?"

Lyla shook her head.

"Of course you can! This is the Magic Kingdom, _anyone_ can!"

This earned Katie a bewildered look. "Anyone?"

Katie nodded.

"How?"

And the answer, of course, used to be the same nuclear family BS that Disney had pumped out from the '40s to the '90s: _Find a prince, build a home, live happily ever after._ Of course, Disney had taken a hard turn on that towards the end of the millennium, and so the PR approved answer was now, "Follow your dreams, be good to others, and stand up for the things that are important to you."

Lyla thought about this, leaning against her staff, clearly taking Katie's words very seriously. Young kids always took her words seriously, less so as they got older, but every so often one around Lyla's age or older would stop and think a little longer. After a while, the girl said, "That's harder than it sounds… but if standing up… if being brave...if that will make me a Princess, I'll do it."

She said it with such sincerity, that for a moment, Katie panicked. It was one thing to sell the same lemon to middle-class kids each morning on the off-chance one of them becoming a hollywood actress. To tell that to a kid in a warzone… what was she thinking?

It was all too much. For now, she was best off going back to the castle. "I believe in you," Katie concluded. She stood, offered her hand, and added, "You should too!"

Lyla took her hand and pulled herself back to her feet. She looked calmer, determined, and ready to get back to work. "I'll do it," she said. "I promise."

* * *

**7:40 PM - Tom Sawyer Island (North), Fort Langhorn**

Ethan _had_ heard the explosions. He could have sworn it, and he had expected to see helicopter gunships fill the skies over the island and the air erupts with the sound of guns and missiles. That wasn't what happened; the skies filled with storm clouds instead, and the air erupted with the roar of a tropical downpour.

"We're not getting saved?" Emily said.

"I dunno, Em," Ethan replied. "And the rain makes it hard to see what's going on out there… but at least it means that they can't see us either. I hope it stays that way for a while."

Emily gave him a confused look. "What does Google say?"

"Google—" he stopped, an important fact suddenly dawning on him. "I'm an _idiot._"

He reached down to his pants pocket, and sure enough, there it was. He had assumed that reception would be horrible in the parks, and hadn't planned on using it for anything other than calls and texts. After everything had gone to hell, Ethan had been so laser-focused on getting himself and his sister to safety that he had completely forgotten about his lifeline to the outside world.

Ethan pulled the cellphone from his pocket and turned it on. It still had a decent amount of battery life left in it, and the reception was reasonable. He switched over to the contact page, scrolled down to his father's phone number and was about to start a call but stopped himself. What if his parents were in hiding? What if they were caught? If he called them, the ringtone or vibrations would draw unwanted attention, and they might not have parents by the time this whole thing ended. A text message carried the same risk. Even worse, what if they _didn't_ pick up? What would that mean?

He took his finger away from the contact list and brought up the keypad instead. Like most American kids, his parents had instructed him to never use the number except in an emergency. As such, he had never had to use the number, and he hoped than the insanity going on in the park had reached enough news stations that the person on the other end wouldn't think he was crazy. "I need you to stay quiet so I can focus, okay?" Emily nodded. He then dialed the forbidden number, _**9-1-1**_

The phone rang twice, and then a woman on the other end picked up. "Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"

Ethan took a deep breath, but it didn't help. All the frustration and nervousness of the past few hours began to resurface, and his voice shuddered as he spoke. "I'm Ethan Laskey and I'm stuck in the Magic Kingdom."

The person on the other end said nothing, and for one horrifying moment he thought that she was going to hang up on him. Fortunately, when she did come back, Ethan realized that it was likely because the operator was taking a deep breath of her own. "Are you in a safe place to talk?"

"Yes, Em—my sister and me, we're in the fort on Tom Sawyer Island. I don't think the guys in the armor have seen us yet. We didn't see any on the island, and I don't know if any came over since I last checked."

"Are either of you hurt?"

"No. Can you get us out of here?"

Another pause from the operator. "It's really dangerous right now," she said. "We have the park surrounded by the police and National Guard, and the Army and Marines are showing up too. For now, stay where you are, keep quiet, and we'll send people to rescue you as soon as we can."

"How much longer?"

"We don't know."

Ethan felt his stomach sink. "We're out of food," he pressed.

"We know," the operator replied, terse. "You're not the first ones to call us. We've got a lot of texts too. None of the others are being fed, and none of them have anything to drink. A lot of them don't have bathrooms. Some don't have any room to move. You're—I think you're actually the safest hostages I've talked to today."

He wasn't exactly sure what to say to that. Their situation was bad, but he'd never taken time to think about what the other people in the park must be feeling or experiencing. "Actually," the operator went on, "do you mind if I pass your phone number along? I've been told to collect phone numbers of anyone in the park who can talk freely."

"Yes," Ethan said, and gave his phone number.

The operator read it back to him twice, then concluded with, "Okay, if we need you, we'll call you. Again, stay quiet, stay put. We'll get you out of this."

Ethan ended the call and lowered the phone. "Are they gonna save us?" Emily asked.

"Not yet."

His sister's shoulders drooped. "Why not?"

"They say it's too dangerous, but they promise to come get us as soon as they can, and they might call us first."

"Why?"

"Because…" why would they want to talk with him? Didn't they have drones and things that could tell them everything they needed to know? Or was it just to alert them before the shooting started? "Because when it is time to rescue us, things will get dangerous, and they want to keep us safe."

Emily nodded, but Ethan suspected they were both thinking the same thing.

They really, _really_ wanted that phone call.

* * *

**7:46 PM - Contemporary Resort**

As an engineer, Ackermann was uncomfortable with the idea of the people around him handling so much computer equipment in a space where only a tarp stood between them and the rain. He assumed that it was all designed to handle harsh weather conditions, of course, but it was difficult to shake the old feeling that something might still go wrong.

Captain Metzinger returned alone, pulled over a folding chair, and dropped onto it. Ackermann half expected him to start asking him questions, but that wasn't what happened at all. The soldier had a faraway look in his eyes, and after ten seconds slammed his fist down onto the table, sprang back to his feet, and began fishing a pack of cigarettes out of a pocket.

"Are—"

"_Wait,_" Metzinger snapped. He pulled out a lighter, walked to the edge of the tent and took one slow draw after another.

Ackermann had heard the flurry of reports around him during the battle, had felt the thump in his ears and bones as the helicopter missiles exploded, but knew little of the outcome. After a minute or so, Ackermann joined the National Guard captain near the edge of the tent, and waited.

It took two more minutes. Eventually, Metzinger stopped, held the smoldering end of the cigarette in front of his face, and said, "Hey, Gene, do you know any military history?"

"A tiny bit."

"Do you know which battle holds the record for most American deaths?"

Ackermann shook his head.

"Well, I don't either, but I'm told that the Battle of Gettysburg was up there. If you put together the Union and Confederate deaths over three days of combat, it comes out to about eight thousand."

The engineer did not respond, figuring that the Captain would continue on his own, and he did. "We didn't lose a single guy today. Not one. It could've been worse, but we put out a call to the _USS Kearsarge_ once we saw that the idiots were organizing. They sent three Marine Supercobras our way. One of them got beat up a bit and had to land a little west of here, but that's about it.

"Now, guess how many dead enemies are scattered around the bus terminals right now? If you guessed eight thousand, you'd be wrong. It's over _six times that._ Fifty thousand men. What fucking moron of a commander marches _fifty thousand men_ into a meat grinder!? Who the fuck does that?"

Ackermann shrugged and said, "The same kind of moron who launches a military invasion of Disney World?"

Metzinger took one last drag on the cigarette, stamped it out, and said. "Yeah. Tell me you have something."

"I do," Ackermann walked with him back to the table and pulled out the first of a rolled-up set of blueprints from a delivered stack. "Have you ever heard of the Utilidors?"

"Utili-what?"

Ackermann opened up one of the Magic Kingdom brochures to display the map with its list of rides and attractions. "This is how guests see the park. To them, this is ground level. This is the show. This is all there is. The thing is, old Walter Elias realized in California that you can't run a park of this size that way. There needs to be a backstage, a way to move people around unseen, and that's where the Utilidors come in."

This time, he unrolled a much larger set of blueprints on the table. An observer could easily pick out the lines of the familiar park rides and landmarks in thin light blue, but an overlay of thick black lines told a different story. A massive oval stretched from Fantasyland to the head of Main Street, and from Tomorrowland to Liberty Square. A straight line bisected the oval, passing directly under the street, Hub, and Castle, while a satellite line ran from Liberty Square towards parts of Adventureland and Frontierland. Giant structures outlined offices, machine shops, and storage areas.

"The Utilidors are a de-facto tunnel network with access to every internal building cluster in the park. They let us put actors in the middle of the action, transport food and souvenirs unseen, and move everything from Janitors to EMTs without the guests' knowledge. The Park you know… that's the second floor. This is the _real_ ground level."

"Okay," Metzinger said. "How does this give us an edge?"

"All this open area underground is also a useful means of relaying and hiding utilities equipment; gas, data network cable, garbage collection… and power." He tapped a particular room on the Fantasyland side of the circle. "You said these guys were primitive Romans, right? No night vision."

Metzinger folded his arms and looked down at the map again. "I see where you're going with this. No night vision, limited communication. We knock out power, we catch all of them with their pants down. With most of their forces dead in the bus terminal, they'll be spread thinly. Power goes out, we bring in Special Forces with NVGs from all directions at the same time. It'll give us a brief window of opportunity to retake some or all of the park." His eyes narrowed. "What's stopping us from cutting the power lines at the source?

"The park is hurricane-proofed. All the lines are buried, there's a lot of redundant lines in case a few go out, and backup generators in case the local station goes down. If you want lights-out at the park, this main breaker room is the only way to do it."

"Fine. How do we get in?"

"The main entrance is on the north side," Ackermann pointed. "Here, between the back end of Small World and the new Beauty and the Beast Restaurant. But there's a problem; this area is well lit, and the run up is open and exposed."

Metzinger frowned down the diagram, then backed away from the table and called over one of his officers who brought a toughbook laptop with a thermal image. "Gene, this is 2nd Lieutenant Lang," Metzinger explained. "He's been keeping track of where everything is for me, and he was the one that let me know about the mobilization earlier."

"Last shot from Global Hawk, about thirty minutes ago," the Lieutenant said turning the screen to face Ackermann. He pointed to several red blobs and added, "There's a watch on the roofs of the outer perimeter buildings, including the ones you listed."

"If we get enough marksmen, we could take them all down at once, but it's a hard ask," Metzinger said. "Are there other ways in?"

Ackermann thought about it. "There are plenty of other ways to get down into the Utilidors, but those are inside the park itself. You would want an undefended area, lower light… can you send in divers?"

"Why divers?"

"The two places I can think of with the easiest approaches are all water. You can insert them from the South, through Jungle Cruise, that'll get you within 230 feet of Stairway 16 in Aloha Isle. You can also insert them from the North, through Rivers of America, and that will put them about the same distance to Stairways 10 and 12 near Hall of Presidents."

"Where's Aloha Isle?" the Lieutenant asked.

Ackerman pointed at it on the map, and the Lieutenant shook his head. "No good. They're storing hostages in there."

"How about Rivers of America?"

"It's more promising," Lang said. "I need to double-check, but the guard from near Haunted Mansion got pulled earlier today. I'm less sure about the rest of the situation up there. It's a big area, and the patrols move around a lot… I just recently got an email that we may have HUMINT on the ground—"

"HUMINT?" Ackermann asked.

"Human Intelligence."

"Like, a spy?"

"Two kids with a cell phone. They're holed up in the fort on the North Island."

Ackermann shook his head. Two kids stuck on an island alone in the dark? He had grandkids up in North Carolina, and he couldn't imagine them in such a horrific circumstance. "Brave kids."

"Okay, I like that the Liberty Square route gives us two stairways, so we'll go with that option," Metzinger said. "Lang, talk to the kids and make the call. In the meantime, I'm going to get things organized with the Navy and the Army."


	7. Chapter 7

**8:00 PM - Tom Sawyer Island (North), Fort Langhorn**

Ethan was almost as shocked as his sister at the speed of response. The noise of his cellphone vibrating was like a jackhammer in their quiet island fort, and he rushed to pick up the line. "Hello?" he said.

"Hi," said the person on the other end of the line. A man this time. "This is Lieutenant Evan Lang with the Florida National Guard. Is this Ethan Laskey?"

"Yes, yes it is," Ethan said, "Are you coming to rescue us?"

"In a sense. We need your help."

Ethan looked up at his sister. Fort Langdon did not have its own lighting, so in the gloop all he could really see of his sister was her pale face and eyes reflected in what little light was leaking through the gunslits. What could the National Guard possibly think they could do.

"We're just kids," Ethan said. "We don't know how to fight."

"I don't need you to fight,'" Lang said. "I just need to ask you a few questions, then have you take some videos. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Okay, good. Have you seen anyone else on Tom Sawyer Island?"

"No," Ethan said. "I think a lot of them tried to swim back to the park, or north off the Island."

"So there's no one else on the island, including the Imperials?"

"Imperials? Like, from Star Wars?"

"It's a long story, but one of the hostages in the Castle sent a text message. That's what the bad guys call themselves."

"No," Ethan said. "But we can only see around our part of the island. If they landed somewhere on the south part of the south island, we wouldn't know. Same goes for North."

"That's fine. Can you take your phone into the south-most turrets of the Fort? I'm going to text you a link for an app that will override some of the features of your phone camera to give me remote control and IR options."

As Ethan waited for the link to download, he asked, "How will this help?"

"We're sending Special Forces in from your side of the park. We have most of the area being watched by drones, but our cameras don't always give us a clear view through the foliage surrounding the Rivers of America. Your video will give us some idea of guard dispersion… .okay, let me know when you're in position and we'll take it from there."

Ethan stood to leave and Emily grabbed him by the side of his shirt. "It'll just be a minute," Ethan said. "Can you stay here?"

Emily shook her head.

"I'm going to be over there, and over there," Ethan said, pointing through the walls at the other two towers. "It's not much further than your bedroom and the kitchen at home. If something's wrong, we'll both know, and I'll come and get you."

His sister reluctantly let go. He brushed her hair out of her face, said, "I'll be back in a sec," and made his way to the first position.

Once there, he kneeled down next to the window, pointed out the camera, opened the app-

And was startled by the overlit bright screen. "Shitshitshit," he muttered, curling around the phone and rushing to drop the brightness level.

"What happened?" Lang asked.

"Your fucking app nearly blinded me," Ethan spat.

"Sorry, I'll send your feedback to the devs. I have a good link now. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, yeah," Ethan said, and carefully pointed his camera out of the window.

* * *

**8:01 PM - Liberty Square**

Viscount Helm Fule Maio found himself tapping his jeweled knife in irritation as his group of officers proceeded back through the western section of the park. "Waste of time," he muttered, watching his men walk out of yet another building, shaking their heads. The other nobles had supposedly already checked these buildings, so there was no good reason to review them, except to serve Colt Formal's paranoia. As far as Helm was concerned, the whole thing would be over if they would just let him lead some men outside the town…

"Nothing," one of his officers said. "A stairway to catacombs, storage areas, nothing obvious."

Helm heaved an irritated huff and looked away, across the river. There were so many better things he could be doing. Perhaps if Colt and the General gave up and went to bed, he could invest some time in some of the women they had captured. Most were ugly, but the nobles looked okay… he had taken a liking to the dark-haired one from that afternoon; she looked easy to break.

As he contemplated what the girl looked like with fewer things on, a bright flash caught his attention. He rushed to the edge of the river, squinting his eyes at the dark island beyond. "Lycanter," he said, "Has that island been surveyed yet?"

"...no, sir?"

"Why not?"

"Well-um-it had so few structures, mostly tiny mills and bridges-"

"You fool! Assemble a team and investigate it!"

"We didn't bring any rafts sir-"

"Then make one!"

As the soldiers scrambled away to perform their tasks, Helm looked again into the gloom. _Secret of the town?_ He thought. _The only secret here is that they allowed so many morons into the command staff._

If anything of worth was discovered on the island, all the better, he supposed. If not, then whomever had been flashing the light would be a great way to vent his anger.

* * *

**8:20 PM - Cinderella's Royal Table (Restaurant)**

Katie knew that she'd only been gone from the restaurant for a few hours, but so much had happened that it felt like a week ago that she'd descended the spiral staircase and met Colt and Lyla.

Upon returning, there were fewer guards than there had been before (some had left with Helm, she supposed) and the guests and staff had spread out. Some of the actresses were working to keep the children amused, while others were talking with the adults.

On her reappearance, everyone looked in her direction, including the guards. Thanks to Colt, she knew that none of them had Amulets of Elange, so she could theoretically say whatever she wanted, as long as her body language continued to stay in character. There was still the children to think about though, and her guest to introduce.

"Hello again friends," she said, taking on the vaguely sweet tone of her role, "It's going to be a tough night, but I have seen things that make me think it's all going to turn out okay in the end."

Everyone stared back at her.

"But for now, I would like to introduce all the kids to a friend I made!"

She turned back towards the staircase and waved.

Lyla couldn't have been more frozen to her spot than if she'd been nailed there. She hugged her staff closer to her body and peeked cautiously into the room.

Katie glanced back a moment to see the group of children looking towards the staircase as well. Some went up on their toes to see over the tables and banisters, curious about who "Cinderella's" new friend was.

The adults were another matter. Some looked at Lyla with shock, some with curiosity, and others were looking at Katie herself with scorn. She imagined that there would be a lot of questions later.

Slowly, Lyla made her way out of the stairway and over to Katie, who led her over to the children. If she could start here, if she could somehow make this go well, then maybe, just maybe-

"I-I'm Lyla El Scyanthall," Lyla said, giving them a short bow, "It's-it's nice to meet you!"

For a moment, none of the kids said anything until a girl, no more than four or five, blurted, "Are your ears real!?"

Lyla seemed taken aback at first. Based on her initial interaction, Katie was starting to think that demihumans like Lyla were a lot more common on the other side of the Gate, and so people didn't ask that question often.

"My-yes, they are, why?"

Two boys at the front went wide eyed, "Wooooah!"

"Is that a magic wand?" Another kid asked.

"It's a staff-yes, made from a Rondel shop-"

"You can do magic!? Show us!"

"I don't want to cause any trouble-"

"Pleeeeeeease?" Several other kids began egging her on, so she pointed her staff at a pitcher of water on one of the dining tables, muttered some words that Katie couldn't hear, and the liquid swirled up and out of the pitcher, floating in a wobbling sphere a few feet off the ground.

The children and plenty of the parents watched the spectacle in silent awe. Lyla, enjoying her new found attention, bent her staff slightly and the water froze, during the blob into a solid ball of ice, which she gently lowered back to the table.

One of the boys walked up to the orb and reached out a hand to touch it. A parent called out a name, probably his, but the boy ignored it, tapped on the ice ball, grinned and declared, "It's real."

Cue a few dozen kids jumping up and down in excitement, crying, "It's real! It's real!" Some went over to examine the ice for themselves, while others rushed Lyla with a barrage of questions. It was funny, Katie thought. All these kids going to the "Magic" Kingdom had lived in a magicless world, and even here at Disney most things were 'Almost magic' or strange but cool, but even the youngest held a suspicion that magic wasn't real. To see _actual, real_ magic opened the floodgates of a million childhood wishes, and they wanted to know what it was and how they could bring it into their lives.

It reminded her of Colt and the pen.

A tap on her shoulder brought her attention back to the present, and Katie looked over to see Sandy there, gesturing her towards the group of older men and women. "You have fun," she told Lyla, "I'll be back with you in a moment!"

The magician quickly nodded before turning, smiling, back to her delighted audience.

Compared to the excitement and wonder of the children, the group of adults was like stepping into a meat freezer. The question, when it came, was a blunt, "What happened out there?"

Certain that none of the guards or kids were able to overhear her, she said, "They came through some kind of magic portal in the Hub. It sounds like a bunch of them tried to leave the park and got blown up by the military. They… they don't realize where they are, or what this place is."

"Are they going to kill us?"

"I don't know, I don't think they're all on the same page. Count Formal doesn't want to kill anyone. Viscount Helm… you saw already. I think their General is stuck in the middle, and is just confused right now because he wasn't expecting to get beat so badly."

"When will the army intervene? How far away are they?"

"I don't know that either, but I know they're close. We could hear the gunfire right outside the park."

"Why are you making friends with them?"

Katie glanced back at Lyla. The demihuman was sandwiched between two other girls that had taken out their phones and were trying to set up a selfie. "They're just people," she argued. "I don't think they want to fight any more than we do, and I thought-"

"That's wrong, and you know it," Sandy said.

That gave Katie pause. "But, I mean, Colt-"

"Do you think these people would be acting so nicely if we _didn't_ have a military out there?" Sandy pointed out. "What if this wasn't Disney World? What if they had invaded the kind of town they were hoping to invade-somewhere that also used swords and spears and shields. Do you think they would care about any of us then? We'd be conquered and sacked, and-" her hand went up to the torn neckline of her costume.

Several of the other adults were nodding, and Katie couldn't help but look away in shame. They were right, of course. Nice as Colt had been, he was still a soldier with a job to do, and he had asked her plenty of questions aimed at completing that job. Furthermore, Colt was just one solder, one officer of thousands that had invaded the park. If this continued… if they were to be taken as slaves as Helm had suggested… would she still wind up with someone as nice as Colt? Doubtful.

Except… "What about Lyla?"

"The cat-girl? What's she even doing here to begin with? If they're willing to march a girl her age off to war, how do you think they see _our_ kids? And if the Marines suddenly ran in here and started shooting, whose side do you suppose she'd be on?" Sandy said. "Look, we've been through the same training. We want to make friends and see good in everyone, but the bottom line is that when the military breaks through, the invaders are all going to die. Nice or not, you shouldn't get too attached."

And there it was, the truth that Katie had been avoiding. _They are all going to die._ She had seen enough death that day, and didn't want to see any more, but the truth, the reality of the matter was that in the next several hours, Main Street, which had already been swept by blades, would next be graced by waves of machine gun fire. Did Lyla deserve that fate?

Did Colt? The Count had been gone for some time, and Katie wondered what happened to him. Either way, they had a good rapport with each other, and any chance at saving Lyla rested with him. She had to convince him to either send her back, or send the whole army back where it came from.

Sandy grabbed her by the shoulder, "Whatever you're thinking, drop it."

"But-"

"_Katie_, you're an actress, not a princess. This is an actual battle. If you think this ends in Happily Ever After, you're going to get hurt."

Yet, Katie was no longer listening. Simply letting Lyla die was wrong, wasn't it?

She had to try.

* * *

**8:45 PM - Tomorrowland**

The Gate, when it opened, had been pointing West, toward the town quarters with the wood and brick structures with their somewhat recognizable shapes and functions; shops and eateries, mostly, but similar enough in architecture that he could relate them to things he knew from home.

Perhaps if the Gate had opened facing East instead, he would have caught on sooner to just how alien this world was.

During the day, the buildings had all been similar shades of gleaming white with accents of blue and grey. Now, at night, they shone with a rainbow of hues; deep greens that contrasted bright teals before yielding to sunrise oranges and warm pinks. Even the ever-present music was different, warbling and ringing and buzzing with instruments that sounded unlike anything from his own world. In the warm rain and thick summer air, the whole East Quarter felt ethereal, like somewhere the Gods might live. Indeed, he would periodically catch one of the guards, remnants of Roen's men, looking up distractedly at the unusual shapes and colors, lost in thought.

Such a strange place… as far as Colt was concerned, this _had_ to be the location of the town's secret. In any other city like Sadera or Bellnahgo, such a severe shift in architecture could mean nothing else; there was a power here, there was something important here, there _had to be._

The Lord of Italica had already done the calculations in his head. With the invasion army annihilated, the remaining forces were likely spread thin around the town. Even with an optimistic estimate of nine thousand men, they could not hold the commoners forever, they could not maintain a perfect guard around the town perimeter, and if this world's military chose to begin a counterattack, all of them would perish. Even a small group, like the Police from earlier, could probably be fatal to their lines at this point. Everything boiled down to finding the secret. Without it, they had already lost.

After wandering for several minutes through the sheer pillars and metal archways, he found what he was looking for. The building was easily as large as the castle, lit up in ocean-blue and deep red, its ribs and spires befitting more a cathedral than a palace. That had to be it.

A few more minutes of careful observation led him to a ramp that joined a walkway that spanned the entire quarter. After maneuvering around grey-blue carts parked on a track, he followed the walkway in a slow tour of the quarter before it led directly into the great building itself.

The entrance was a dark tunnel, causing Colt to stop. Everywhere in this town had been well-lit so far, so what made this different?

He considered calling the guards, but then realized that doing so would be futile. If the army beyond the town feared what lay here, what good would the swords of a handful of men do? For that matter, if the town was keeping this place dark on purpose, than going back for a torch could also be the wrong idea. After the terrifying power they had witnessed at the Haunted Mansion, he doubted summoning Lyla would do more than place the girl in unnecessary danger.

He could call for Cinderella, but then, she had been evasive for the entire tour. While she had not set the ghosts of the Haunted Mansion upon them, she didn't actively try to stop them either. The phrasing of her answers also felt like she was dodging some truth, and while Colt could understand her behavior as a captured noble, he didn't think that bringing her along into this place would give him any real advantage. Quite the opposite; if he were in Cinderella's place, bringing an enemy too close to a key strength or secret would force him to act.

No, he decided. No one else needed to die today. No more commoners, no more of his men, and not Lyla. He would face the secret alone.

Slowly, Colt drew his sword and, keeping his other hand upon the tunnel side, proceeded carefully into the depths.

It was a long, dark curve, probably around the circumference of the building, Colt realized. He could sense the sloping wall, and in the distance he could hear new music; simple, slow, almost like a whistle or chimes. Indeed, he could also see a light from somewhere a head. Certain that he had not simply circled back to the exit, he picked up speed, almost running until he burst upon a window into the cavernous space within.

At last, the secret lay exposed.

Under normal circumstances, the interior ride section of Space Mountain is pitch dark, save for the flickering lights of projected stars and planets. When the Gate opened and everything went to hell, the ride operators had initiated an emergency stop in an effort to evacuate the riders. As a result, all the maintenance lights were on.

What Colt Formal saw in the space beyond defied all of his expectations. There were no magical forces or rune-covered tablets. There were no glowing gemstones or chained dragons. There were no statues to gods or practicing priests or weapons or vessels or heroes or anything that could or should merit such a structure.

What he saw, at least at first, was a great deal of metal scaffolding. So much steel, endless steel, enough to outfit an army of tens of thousands or more, all of it serving a purpose that could otherwise have been delegated to wood. It was mind-boggling enough that so much steel would be assembled and sculpted in one place, but to such a simple end? He searched on, trying to determine the function of the structure, until at long last he noticed the track… metal rails, much like those for the mine that Cinderella had pointed out to him earlier. And yet, this was clearly not a mine, nor a rock quarry, nor a clear construction site. Further, the track wove around the metal gantries, seemingly with no clear purpose, even dangerously dipping down slopes or racing around corners. No one in their right mind would use this for transporting materials, so why…

Upon the track he spotted a short train of carts. The front was shaped like and arrowhead, and it was wide enough to accommodate the full width of the track. Within each cart, three seats.

So it was... a vehicle, a means of conveyance? But clearly it didn't go anywhere except within this building. Using the pointed nose as a guide, he judged the direction of its motion along the track and tried to imagine what it must be like to ride in one of the carts, the dips, the turns. If it truly was a means of conveyance and not a strange torture device, he imagined that the transit would be exhilarating, like a Wyvern ride. He had taken his children up on Wyverns once before. In passing, he wondered what it might be like to put someone like his daughter, Myui onboard. Would she be scared, or would she perhaps find it-

_A means of keeping children occupied._

There were a lot of children in this place. So many families. Even at the market in Italica, the percentage of children was far less than the number he had seen on the way to the town entrance. Everything in the town seemed to be designed around children; fantastic, nonsensical architecture, massive moving structures or shows meant to excite or thrill, nobles that spoke sweetly and optimistically to youths.

Music. Music _everywhere_.

The sword slipped from Colt's hand and clattered to the floor as the truth began to assert itself. "Impossible," he muttered. "It's a _town_. It's a _whole town._ _You don't build a whole town just for THAT!_"

But as he slumped against the windows and looked out upon the roller coaster, Colt _knew._ This had to be it. There was no other sensible explanation. The secret of this place was not for invading armies, it was for the children that visited. What was hidden was not a dangerous force, but merely the backstage of a theater. An unimaginable amount of resources and money and people had been assembled at this place for one sole, simple, singular function.

The Magic Kingdom existed so that families could have fun.

Colt fought a sudden urge to vomit. These hadn't just been commoners, these were people that had traveled, possibly from great distances and at great expense, to enjoy time with their spouses, kids, siblings… and they had shown up and started cutting people down and trampling them with horses. What the Empire had done, what _he_ had done, was as heinous as charging, swords out, into a childrens' tea party…

...but even that description didn't quite compare. He had funded tea parties for his daughters before, and the resources involved…

Colt's head shot up and with a gasp he backed away from the window. From a resource perspective, tea parties for children were a pittance. A joke. A small handful of coins that any noble would not miss at year's end. If this was a tea party, if this_ entire town_ was a simple, cheap, pittance of a tea party… what resources could this nation spare for _war?_

Colt grabbed his sword from the ground, despite knowing that it was worthless against what was probably coming, and ran for the exit. He needed to find Cinderella. There was one or two last things he needed to confirm, and then he would approach Kagran with his findings.

This much was certain; if the Imperial army stayed put, they would not live to see the sunrise.


	8. Chapter 8

**10:35 PM - Northwest of the Park, 300ft South of Floridian Way**

Like some cruel joke, the rain stopped just as Lt. Walsh was about to get wet again.

As much as the military had wanted to flood the park with every form of Special Operations unit in the United States Military, most of the SEAL and Delta teams were operating in active conflict zones in the Middle East, and were simply too far away to be recalled or instructed in time for the operation. As it happened, half of SEAL Team 4 was training at Naval Air Station Pensacola, and was able to respond immediately to the call to report to Disney World.

That concept still felt like something out of a bizarre dream to Walsh. His platoon had been interrupted just before trying a delicate new technique involving limpet mines, and the messenger that explained the situation was initially met with jokes and disbelief. In all honesty, it hadn't properly dawned on him what they were doing until he saw EPCOT's big ball go by outside the Chinook window. Now, as he made final preparations with his men, the situation had become very real.

The plan involved inserting them from the Northwest, through the National Guard and SWAT perimeter, along the south coast of an offshoot of Reedy Creek. They were to follow this offshoot until they reached a setpiece of about a dozen fake Native American Teepees ("wait, what?" one of his men had said), then proceed south into the Rivers of America.

"Rivers" was a misnomer, of course. The whole thing was a static water feature, a man built loop that was only seven or eight feet deep with a mud and concrete bottom. They would be relying on finding a metal track designed to keep one of the rides, a medium-sized steamboat, from running aground. As the only surefire way to get into the Magic Kingdom undetected, the whole trick was to infiltrate the park through shallow, muddy water, in the dark, and keep enough of a sense of direction that they could emerge at the right place to avoid the guards, and close enough to the "utilidor" entrance that they could enter the second phase of the mission unobserved.

From there, they just had to follow the signs, throw the right breaker switch, and plunge the park into darkness. That would be the signal for everyone else to get to work.

When he saw the first teepee through his night vision goggles, he called the rest of his men to stop, then waved two men forward to check the area. Military Intelligence claimed that the "Imperials" weren't positioned out this far, but he didn't want to take any chances. There was also a possibility of civilians in the area, like the ones who had supposedly provided intel on enemy ground movement. Rules of Engagement insisted on avoiding civilian casualties, and he was more uptight about that instruction than usual. For all he knew, someone from his hometown could be hiding out there.

His recon pair signaled all-clear and they moved along the edge of the setpiece until they were finally at the river. Looking to the right, they could see all the way to the foot of Big Thunder Mountain, which one of his men was already examining through a small set of field binoculars, the first of many pieces of equipment they'd be ditching as the operation went on. "Clear," the SEAL stated, and offered the binoculars up to Walsh who shook his head. Intel had said as much. Supposedly the enemy concentration was denser along the well-lit Caribbean Way, just to the west of Thunder Mountain and Splash Mountain. That's why they were inserting here, rather than further up the waterway that led to Seven Seas Lagoon.

It was time. In smaller groups, they pulled on their swimming fins and opened the valves on their SCUBA tanks. Again, in pairs, they began to slip into the river.

All that remained was over a thousand feet of pitch black water. As Walsh slipped his rebreather into his mouth, he prepared for what was certain to be the longest ninety minutes of his year.

* * *

**10:40 PM - Tom Sawyer Island (North), Fort Langhorn**

Ethan liked to think of himself as a good student. He got high marks in most of his classes and was more of a gamer than an athlete. As such, whenever he was staying up late, it was in front of his bright computer monitor or TV set with a mouse or keyboard or game controller in his hands. The light and action on the screen would easily be enough to keep him awake for hours. Sitting in the dark of Fort Langhorn, Ethan had none of these things, just the dim light filtering across the Rivers of American from Liberty Square and Frontierland. After all, Tom Sawyer's Island was not designed to be explored at night; the raft skipper had pointed out to them on the way over that the whole thing would close down at 5 PM.

As such, his body was pulling at him to go to sleep, and he was fighting against it with all the willpower he could muster. Sleep meant inattention. Sleep meant unawareness. Sleep meant death.

Emily, on the other hand, was fast asleep on his lap. His sister had never pulled an all-nighter before, and was normally in bed well before ten o'clock. His attention was drifting so badly, that he hadn't noticed that she was curled up down there until he tried to move. She looked adorable like that, he thought as his eyelids began to droop…

He jerked his head up and took a deep breath. _No sleeping._ There was no good way around it, he had to get up and move around, or he'd be as unconscious as his sister. Carefully, he shifted his backpack around, then gently shifted Emily over so that she was laying on it instead of him.

Ethan stood, pulled out his phone, and glanced at the screen. No new calls, no new messages. He wondered if his parents were asleep, and if the military guy that had called him was going to call again, perhaps for another update on the positions of the Imperials. Maybe the rest of the military would show up?

He made his way to one of the other fort turrets, glad that the rain had stopped, and peered out towards frontierland. There was a small group of soldiers gathered over there, some holding torches, others hauling a large wood object. As he watched, they flipped the object around and began lowering it onto the water.

_It's a boat,_ he realized, suddenly wide awake. A boat meant that they were going to explore the island. That could only mean one thing.

He had been spotted.

* * *

**10:45 PM - Cinderella's Royal Table (Restaurant)**

The atmosphere had improved somewhat, Katie felt, as the night had gone on. Some families had grouped back together, and a fair-sized chunk of the children had gone to sleep on the floor or along chairs. A few adults continued in hushed conversation. Others took the risk of pulling out cellphones under the tables to contact family or emergency services. Lyla was continuing to talk with a small handful of teenagers who were still curious about magic. Katie had dropped in for a little while to listen to the lecture. It was complicated, particularly for someone of Lyla's apparent age, and there were a lot of terms that none of them had ever heard of before, or perhaps didn't translate well into English. Occasionally, one of the kids would bring up a high school physics concept and get an equal amount of confusion from Lyla who, among other things, seemed to think that the Sun went around her world rather than the opposite.

It was while answering a few questions to another adult that the Imperial guards snapped to attention and Colt Formal finally returned. Something was very clearly wrong—the noble looked exhausted, ashen-faced, and visibly shaken. "Lady Cinderella," he said, "We need to talk _now_. Lyla, with me, please."

Unsure what had happened, Katie watched as Lyla thanked the group of teenagers for talking with her, and the three of them went back down the spiral staircase and back out into Fantasyland. Even this late at night, the lights were still on and music from the carousel was still playing, so Colt led them to a quieter area, a walking path that went around the Hub's moat and extended towards the typical entrance of Liberty Square.

Colt gestured for Katie to take a seat and, once he was certain that she had settled down, said, "I have some additional questions. I promise that I will not be mad at you, and I shall not harm you, but I need you to answer me truthfully, even if you are under law or contract to do otherwise."

The Count took a deep breath, and said, "This, place, the Magic Kingdom, it's not a town. It's a giant entertainment center for families, correct?"

Katie could feel herself go pale. Of course, she knew that Colt was smart and might figure things out eventually, but to finally be faced with everything like this…

"M'lord?" Lyla said, her head tilted in bewilderment, "they built a _castle_."

"It's fake," Colt said. "It's actually the last thing I checked, but one of a few. The realization came to me in the great white building to the east. There's… a structure in there. A cart system for carrying passengers for no other purpose than to fly them around at speeds for amusement's sake. Once I saw that, I ran back to the Seven Dwarves Mine. It took a while, but I found what seemed like a designated entrance, and ultimately a similar system of passenger carts and rails. To build a complex entertainment system like that once could be mistaken as a one-off entertainment venue, like the Colosseum in Sadera. Twice, and in separate quarters? There was only one last thing I needed to support the theory."

He folded his arms and said, "I went back to the Haunted Mansion alone. This time the music did not start, nor did I hear any voices. It took five minutes of retracing Cinderella's steps and searching in the gloom before I found the activation panel. The music and words were identical, and after three minutes, both stopped. The ghosts were fake, Lyla; the voice was made by the same objects scattered around the park that make the music. The ghosts were fake, the mine was fake, the inside of the while building surely hid some fakery, and when I returned to the castle and roamed the lower halls, I found that not a single room was dedicated to the functions of government. Instead, the castle is nothing but a mess of storage areas, souvenir shops, and a tavern. All of it is designed to amuse, entertain, or service children and their families." He turned to Katie and said, "Well?"

Slowly, Katie nodded. Lyla gasped and looked back and forth between the two. She opened her mouth again to protest but Colt held out a hand to stop her. "Furthermore," he said to Katie, "you are not a noble. Are you an actress?"

Katie hugged her shoulders and nodded again, and that was all it took for the fight to go out of Lyla. The girls' arms dropped to her sides and her face took on a blank, defeated look—the same kind Katie had fought so hard to remove just hours earlier.

"Is Cinderella your real name or stage name?" Colt said.

"I'm—my name is Katie White."

"What is the name of the nation that built this place?"

"It wasn't built by a nation, it was made by a company—a business, I mean, called the Walt Disney Corporation."

Another pained expression passed over Colt's face. Perhaps, Katie thought, Colt was hoping that this place was a national venture. If a mere business could amass so many resources... "Then… tell me of the nation that produces such a business."

"It's called The United States of America. It's a nation of three hundred million people… more than that, I think."

"And their military? The Police—"

"The Police aren't military. They're… I guess you would call them town guards? You would know the military if you saw them...soldiers in either green or tan."

"Tan, you say," Colt said, his frown deepening. "Very well, that's all I needed. Please go back to the castle."

The Count would not meet her eye. Neither did Lyla, who had fresh tracks of tears running down her face. Just as Katie was about to move past them, Lyla reached out and grabbed her arm, looked up at her with those big green eyes and said, "_Why?_"

Katie understood the question. _Why do all of this? What is it supposed to mean?_ It was one that she was asked often by family and friends, one she saw on the lips of skeptical visitors and colleagues, and while she didn't agree with everything Disney did, this was one point she could agree on.

"Because this world... isn't how we want it to be," Katie said. "Hundreds get slaughtered by war, people get sick and die in droves, we work for less pay than we'd like, and rarely see our families, and see in the news each day how good people are dragged down while the actions of bad people are ignored or even supported in the name of money. We built this place… we go to this place… precisely because the world isn't right. We offer excitement and adventure. We let the good guys win. We let families be together. Just for a day… we let them live a dream. That's what this place tries to be; everything the other world—the real world—isn't."

Slowly, Lyla let go of her arm, her tiny skinny body wracked with sobs. Just as Katie wanted to reach out and comfort her, Colt interrupted with, "There is… one more thing."

When Katie turned to look, she was shocked to see that the Lord of Italica was facing her, but had dropped to his knees. "I recognize that I have no place making requests of you," he said, "this request most of all, but… I would like to give my men the chance to return to their world… those that still live, at least. I plan to go to General Kagran with the information we discussed, and convince him to abandon this place. If he hears it from you as well, then perhaps he shall believe me, and some of us will be saved. If not, then I suspect that we shall all die here tonight."

He shook his head and added, "I cannot excuse what happened here today, and if I were in your position I don't know if I could. If you wish the freedom of all the hostages, so be it. If you wish for me to remain as _your_ hostage, so be it. If asking me to end my life on behalf of my people will satisfy you, _so be it_. All I can do is beg of you; help me put an end to the bloodshed. Please help me get my men home."

Katie felt she had taken enough risks that day. Playing Princess that afternoon had been a risk, as had been introducing Lyla to the children. Little had come out of both circumstances, and no one was in a better position for it. If the military was truly going to intervene that night, would being near so many Imperial officers put her in the line of fire? And what if that other man, Viscount Helm, was still around? Colt had been lenient in response to her act; would other officers do the same?

The best and most pragmatic option would be to return to the castle and wait for everything to blow over. She had zero doubts that if she turned her back on Colt, she would live.

Except…

Lyla still couldn't look at her, and the man on his knees had already mentioned a daughter in another world. She had spent the whole evening vowing to save the girl, but what did that mean if she backed out when it actually mattered? If she went and hid, she would need to live with her decision for the rest of her life.

"You know," she said, "Earlier today, I told a girl that the three keys to being a Princess were to follow your dreams, be good to others, and stand up for the things that are important to you."

_Disney Service Basics #4: I go above and beyond._

"What kind of a princess would I be if I said 'no'?"

* * *

**10:45 PM - The Contemporary Resort Parking Lot**

The trucks were all gone, Ackermann realized as he looked back towards the hotel. Over the past two hours, dozens of military trucks and a series of civilian buses had been dumping people into the base.

Ackermann could describe them as two separate armies. The first was not all formal military, but a mix. SWAT, FBI, National Guard, Coast Guard, all four of the main branches… but what all of these people had in common were the weapons they carried. Long guns with suppressors and night vision or thermal scopes. Every single one of them was a trained sharpshooter, and these were arranged into teams for deployment around the perimeter of the park.

The second team was the opposite. Trained, tough looking men in black combat gear and carrying an assortment of specialized weapons. Each had night vision equipment clipped to their helmets and weapons, and these men were grouped and then distributed towards each and every one of the park entry points. These, Metzinger, had told him, were elements of the 1st and 3rd Ranger Battalions, flown in from Ft. Benning and the Hunter Army Airfield.

From his spot on the shore of the Seven Seas Lagoon, Ackermann couldn't see them, even if he knew where they were. With the vehicles gone, the area felt remarkably quiet.

He heard a noise and turned to see Metzinger walking up to him. The soldier pulled another cigarette from a carton and made and offer to Ackermann, who waved it off, before lighting up. "Everything's underway," he said.

"Don't they need you back in the command tent?"

"The operation is being handled by SOCOM out of MacDill. The National Guard's orders haven't changed; maintain the perimeter, evacuate survivors, take down any bad guys who try to run." He took a draw on his cigarette and added. "They're probably live-streaming the whole thing to the White House, you know."

Ackermann knew. He'd heard about the Bin Laden raid, and this was a much greater scale. "So what happens next?" he asked.

"Next?"

"Yeah, after you get the park back."

Metzinger looked out across the lake. "We form a defensive line. Once Congress gives the go ahead—and they _will _give the go-ahead—we go to the other side of the Gate and smash the morons that invaded us."

"Oh. How long will that be?"

The Captain shrugged. "As long as it takes."

"What will happen to the Magic Kingdom?"

"I shouldn't need to tell you, it should be obvious. Besides, Disney World has, what, three other parks? And two water parks on top of that? And there's other Disney Resorts in Cali, Paris, Shanghai, Tokyo, Hong Kong, and you have… how many cruise ships?"

"Four."

"Exactly. There's plenty of other ways for people to get the Disney Experience while we're getting work done with the Gate."

There were things the soldier wasn't accounting for, of course. Thousands of people would be out of jobs. Disney would lose millions in daily profits. Companies that relied on Disney expenditures would take a hit too, particularly food services and fireworks. And none of this took into consideration the expenses involved in bringing the park back on line once the military finished… if they ever finished. It wasn't like they could just pick up the Gate and move it. Ultimately, if push came to shove, the Government could declare Eminent Domain and size the entire property to make way for roads and airbases and whatever else they needed for their campaign.

Metzinger checked his watch. "About twenty minutes," he said. "Ready for some fireworks?"

"Disney does fireworks every night, and they're some of the best damn fireworks in the country. I hope you brought your A-game."

The Captain grinned. "Just watch."


	9. Chapter 9

**11:00 PM - Tom Sawyer Island (North)**

Ethan charged from his spot back to Emily, now wide awake and alert, and hauled her upright, "Em!"

"Wha—"

"They found us, we're leaving." He grabbed her hand and Emily briefly looked back at the backpacks they had left behind before Ethan called, "Leave it!"

It was a fast descent from the walls to the Fort square, but there was more than enough time for Ethan to know that they were in trouble.

He had only seen one path up to the Fort, and that path led to the wide-open gate. Even from here he could see the flickering of the torches through the trees. If they took that path they'd be dead.

He spun around searching for another way. Some way, somewhere—

His answer appeared out of the gloom, and when he realized what he was looking at, Ethan burst out laughing and pointed at the sign he'd noticed.

_ESCAPE TUNNEL_

With no more time to spare, the two plunged into the dimly lit cave. The path led east, away from the direction the boat had come from. Hopefully this meant that there wouldn't be anyone waiting for them at the far side, but Ethan knew that if he had seen the tunnel entrance, so would the Imperials.

The tunnel dead-ended in a path that led back in the direction of the Fort entrance. Obviously they did not want to go that way. They could charge through the dense foliage to the north? Since they were on an island, then that meant another dead end.

This left them with one choice. "Em, we're going to have to swim."

Emily furiously shook her head.

"We'll swim from over where the bridge was back towards Haunted Mansion. It's a shorter distance than the pool up at Summer Camp."

"It's too deep!"

Ethan placed a hand over her mouth and looked around to determine if they'd been heard. The torchlight was now going up the path into Fort Langhorn. He watched carefully, then took Emily by the arm and the two rushed back in the direction of the bridge.

From his position, he couldn't see any Imperial soldiers near the closest shore. It looked easily swimmable, and now was probably their best and only shot. "Come on, Em."

"I can't!"

"I've seen you swim this far at camp."

"It was shallow there!"

"Then…" he wracked his brain for an answer, "... pretend that the bottom is actually close, but you just can't see it."

"But—"

"Out of time! Go!" He was hearing shouts from up by the fort. Someone must have discovered their backpack.

Ethan pulled his sister under the cordon and down to the water, where he kicked his shoes off and took an experimental step. Emily did the same, and voiced the thoughts going through his head, "_But it's cold—_"

He grabbed her by the shoulders and charged into the water, surprised at the presence of concrete instead of dirt beneath him. When his sister was shoulder deep, he pointed at the far side, said, "I'll race you, go!" And prayed that Emily had the wherewithal to follow him.

* * *

**11:03 PM - Rivers of America**

Walsh hugged the rail, frozen as he waited for the commotion occurring a few feet overhead to stop. Next to him, another SEAL was waiting, one foot hooked under the guide rail, his combat knife out in his hand and ready to intervene in case the scramble turned into an attack. The entire team silently watched the drama going on overhead through their NVGs, unmoving.

The operation had felt like hours, though his watch told him that just minutes had passed. There had been little action or commotion up to the point that two people had charged into the water and began swimming to the other shore.

It took him a moment, but ultimately Walsh recognized that the legs of the second person were too short to be those of an adult, and he tapped the armed SEAL and motioned to put the knife away. Within a few seconds, the kicking stabilized, and the child swam away.

He couldn't imagine what they were doing at a time like this. All he could do was hope that they'd stay out of their way.

Walsh let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding and signaled for his team to keep moving.

* * *

**11:04 PM - Haunted Mansion Queue**

Warm as Florida was, Ethan was still cold when he scrambled out of the water and looked around. Emily was just behind him—thank heavens—and he couldn't see any guards yet. If there was one benefit to coming ashore near the Haunted Mansion, it was that the area was intentionally dimmer than most other attractions at night. Hopefully the various music audio loops had helped block the noise of their escape, or Emily's panicked swimming.

Regardless, they were off the Island. They needed to keep moving, but to where? Ethan's first thought was to charge up north until they hit the edge of the park, but it was all dense Florida forest up there. Who knew how far away the nearest road was. He wished that he'd thought to bring his shoes with him—the idea of attempting an escape in that direction barefoot seemed unlikely.

The alternative meant going into the park, and facing hundreds of armed soldiers. There had to be another way to escape. Of course, that wouldn't be easy—the whole park was designed to ensure that guests entered and left through the single entrance and exit, and there was no way in hell that they'd make it down Main Street without being spotted.

The key, then, was to go outside of guest bounds. He'd need to find an Employees Only door, hopefully one that led to a backroad or staff parking lot or loading dock.

"Come on," he said, taking his sister by the hand. "We're getting out of here."

* * *

**11:10 PM - The Crystal Palace (Restaurant)**

To Colt, the air felt charged, like just before a terrible thunderstorm. He could just feel it in the air, some oncoming doom rushing in their direction, a hammer just waiting to fall.

He made his way past the guards defending the entrance of Kagran's headquarters, Lyla and Cinderella—no, Katie—in tow. He had asked the woman a few more questions on the way over, namely to collect the right terminology, but thankfully she had been receptive to his pleas. He did not feel nervous. Normally, if he was talking to a General or higher-ranked noble, it was with the understanding that they could do something to damage his station if he said something they disliked. Tonight was another matter; if they did not leave for Alnus soon, then ultimately they would never leave at all.

Kagran was still at the end of his table, and the room was filled with most of the remaining junior officers. Many of the latter looked worn out, tired, and irritated. Helm, apparently done with his own expedition, was next to the General. "You're late," Helm snarled, "And you brought this… otherworlder with you."

The General held up a hand, making the young noble stop. "Did you find the secret of this town?" Kagran asked.

"Yes," Colt said. "This isn't a town at all. It's a _stage._"

The side of Helm's mouth curled up in a sardonic grin. "Now you wish to bore us with philosophy—"

"I mean it in a literal sense," Colt said. "This entire place was built as a source of entertainment; a clustered collection of shows and amusement rides. They are arranged into areas of different architecture based on the stories they wish to tell, making this a 'Themed Park.' The focus audience is primarily children, which is why the architecture is so unreal and fantastic, and why the armed resistance in the park was so light; from a strategic standpoint, it would make no more sense to attack here than the chariot arenas in Sadera or Telta."

"Then why are their forces so afraid of attacking this place?" Kagran argued.

"Do you have children, General?"

"I do."

"If my men were to take them captive, would you charge in alone with a sword?"

"No, I would—" the General stopped, and lowered his head into his hands. "I would surround you, build up a superior force, and when I saw an advantage, attack from all sides at once in hopes of catching you off-guard."

"We saw it from the beginning," Colt went on. "The unwillingness of the Police to attack civilians. They are treating this whole affair as purely a hostage situation rather than an invasion."

"Then… perhaps we can negotiate," Kagran. "We could exchange some of the nobles—"

"I told you, this is a stage," Colt said. "People like this woman here are actors. The closest government officer of a real city is the Mayor of Orlando, many miles from here. We have nothing to trade, except the commoner families we have captured here."

"Then we will threaten their lives until our enemy yields!" Helm said. "If they advance, then the streets will run red—"

"And force them to attack?" Colt countered. "General, you have seen their army in action against a massed force of fifty thousand—well over a quarter of all the career soldiers at the Empire's disposal. How successful do you suppose we'd be with a thinly spread force of nine thousand? Fewer? The only reason why they haven't done it already is that we are _not_ slaughtering commoners."

Katie raised a hand. "May I?"

Colt passed her his Amulet of Elange and the actress started. "My apologies. My name is Katie White. I may be a simple actress, but everyone in America—that's our country—has access to instant-news and libraries. Because of this, we all know a little bit about our armed forces, and if there's anything I can tell you—"

"Trust the words of an _actress?_" Helm spat. "Colt, she has taken you for a fool!" He drew his sword. "General, let us be rid of these imposters!"

"I have come to these conclusions on my own," Colt argued, sparing no reaction to Helm's tantrum. "I can show you both what I have seen, but we do not have the time. I brought her here because she is knowledgeable about this place. I implore you to listen."

Kagran held up his hand to Helm again. "Helm, his evaluations agree with things that _I _have seen. We risk nothing by listening to her. The risk is in the action we take after."

As Helm folded his arms and fumed, Katie said, "The people out there that blew up your army, did they announce a name?"

"Nashonal Gard," Kagran said, trying to form the alien words. "Is that what your army calls itself?"

Katie thought about it, then shook her head. "The— no, I'm sorry. The National Guard is our _militia._"

Even Colt was shocked. "I thought you said that the _Police_ were the town guards?"

"They are. There's the Police who are like town guards, then SWAT and the FBI who are like specialized guards, then the National Guard which is our militia, then the main branches of the Military; the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines… and inside of those are Special Forces—elite units."

"You mean to tell me," Kagran said, wearier still, "That the mightiest army that the Empire assembled in the modern age, was wiped out in less than an hour by _militia?_"

"I guess so? If they're waiting to attack, it's not because they're waiting for you to show weakness. They already know that you're weaker than them. It's because they're waiting for the Special Forces to arrive so they can capture everything perfectly when they decide to finally do it."

"How long might that take?" Colt asked.

"I don't know," Katie said. "There's enough military bases in Florida. They could be here already. They carry weapons that make their guns—those things the Police and National Guards used on you—harder to hear. We wouldn't know until they were almost on top of us."

"And there's no way to spot them early?"

"It wouldn't matter. They have guns and know how to use them. You'll all be dead before you have a chance to draw a sword or arrow, from fifty feet away or more."

Kagran sighed. 'What do you suggest, Colt?"

Colt placed his hands on the table, looked his General dead in the eye, and said, "Send everyone back to Alnus immediately. Burn the Gate behind us."

Helm looked back and forth between the two officers and sputtered, "A _full_ retreat!? With nothing to show for it!?"

"Damn it Helm, don't you get it!? We _lost!_ This is no longer about gains or riches or glory for the Empire, this is about _escaping with our lives!_"

"We should at least take slaves—"

"If we do, they'll follow us! They'll rip open the ether like the mages did! If we keep talking like this and they capture they Gate, they'll march right on through, right over our men at Alnus, and they will keep marching until they're grinding Sadera to dust beneath their boots! _We need to leave! We need to leave NOW!"_

Colt slammed his hand down on the table to emphasize that last point. If Katie was telling the truth about the Special Forces, then the danger was more immediate than he'd anticipated. Would there even be enough time to evacuate the men at the perimeter? Would he even know if the attack started, or would death come from nowhere?

Around him, the junior officers shuffled uncomfortably. Some muttered to each other or passed along worried glances. Nobles didn't often lose their composure in public, and Colt knew that he had a reputation as a serious, studious person. For him to blow up like that… he hoped that it would communicate to them the level of danger they were in.

To his surprise, Kagran started to chuckle. From the dead look in his eyes, the man had clearly lost his nerve. "I knew this would happen," he said. "After they wiped out my men… that they would come for us all. I sent for oil and pitch from beyond the Gate, and ordered it dumped on the walls. You're right, Colt. You were always right."

The General stood. "Lord Formal," he said, "Order the men—"

His head toppled from his shoulders in a gout of blood. Katie let out a terrified scream, and the observing soldiers stood aghast.

Helm, his sword dripping with his commander's fluids snarled over at Colt, "You would deny me glory!? You would tarnish the Empire!? We are here because the gods wish us to be! Go back to Alnus!? I'll have your head too, COWARD!"

* * *

**_Author's note:_**

Due to personal circumstances (University Applications), the remaining three chapters may be delayed. Rest assured that the series will not be cancelled; Chapters 10, 11, and 12 are at 60%, 80%, and 50% completion respectively. I am still aiming to have the series completed before the year is out.


	10. Chapter 10

**11:13 PM - The Crystal Palace (Restaurant)**

Colt barely got his sword out in time to parry the blow. "You madman!" He shouted, "What are you doing!"

"The Command of our Emperor was to take this world!" Helm spat, twisting his sword around for another lunge. "Anyone who defies that command is a traitor to the Empire! All who stand with the Empire, with me!"

To Katie's shock and irritation, Helm's own soldiers, backed by Mudra and Callista's and some of the General's own drew their weapons and gathered around the Viscount. "Don't you get it!?" Colt shouted, "If we stay, we die!"

"Then we will die in glorious service to our nation, as a good soldier should! Anyone who stands in our way is a traitor too. The Glory of the Empire—"

"If they capture the Gate, _there will BE no more Empire!_"

"The lies of a coward."

Colt looked back over his shoulder at his own men. Katie knew he didn't want this. Imperial fighting Imperial; surely, some of them knew the others on the other end of the room. Perhaps some were cousins.

One of the other men stepped up and announced himself. "Ramirus Brecca, one of Roen's Captains. Count Formal, Lord Roen meant to tell you after the campaign, but you are to be a grandfather. Congratulations." He drew his sword. "But if it were my children, I would rather them be blessed with a father than cursed with a father's glory. I stand with Colt Formal."

Another stepped up, one of Missna's. "My brother and cousin have already died today. If I perish here, my nieces will surely be orphaned. I must try to get home," he drew his sword as well. "I stand with Colt Formal."

One of Kagran's men added, "I have seen enough bloodshed here. If I can stop it from reaching my children's doorstep… I'm with Lord Formal."

Others drew their weapons too and declared their support. Colt quickly found his supporters outnumbering Helm by a two-to-one margin, but what surprised Katie the most was not the support itself, but the reasons. Sons, daughters, nieces and nephews, younger siblings, ailing parents… family. The thing that the Park had been built for.

And that was why when Lyla stepped forward, Colt's hand shot out to block her. He shot her a glare, shook his head once, and took a step towards the Viscount. "Helm," he said. "It's enough. Let's go home."

Helm glanced to the left and right, and noticed the swords around him starting to waver. His weapon dipped slightly, and for a moment, Katie wondered if Colt's words had gotten though.

Instead, Helm let out a battle cry and charged.

To Katie, the ensuing melee was like something out of a movie, but far more horrific. Few of the men had shields, none had helmets (as they were inside their own HQ) and all of them wailed at each other with swords and daggers which screeched and clanged as they connected with each other or the iron armor the soldiers wore. She dodged away from the fight, towards the buffet, praying that none planned to pursue her. Katie could barely tell what was going on, and as everyone wore similar armor, she had no way of telling which side was winning, or that either side was even making progress outside of the occasional scream as a blade managed to find flesh or bone.

Across the room, she finally managed to spot Colt and Helm engaged in combat. The Lord of Italica was a reasonably effective swordsman, but Helm was easily twenty or more years younger, and so moved with more speed and energy. Indeed, it was all he could do to keep up with Helm's swipes and thrusts.

Just as Colt was shifting to avoid Helm's attack, his foot found a discarded autograph pen and he was thrown off balance. Seizing the advantage, Helm swept his weapon up, knocking Colt's sword from his hands.

Katie didn't want to look, but could not take her eyes off of the scene. Helm, his face filled with gleeful bloodlust, swung is weapon back down.

...and in that fraction of a second, Lyla jumped in front of her Lord, raising her thin wood staff sideways in defense.

_SNAP!_

There was a bloodcurdling scream, and the battle ground to a halt.

Katie had seen enough injury and death that day, so nothing ought to have shocked her, but the image of Helm's sword embedded inches into Lyla's left shoulder was enough to kill off all her other thoughts, her entire sense of awareness of the world around her. There was nothing other than the girl's agonized face, the blood spurting from her torso, and the way that the staff fragments tumbled from her hands.

The moment was only broken by Colt's own yell as he received his own sword and swung wildly at Helm. The younger Imperial barely had enough time to get his sword moving and ultimately let go of the handle before dodging the swipe and, clearly aware he was outnumbered, fled the restaurant.

In the commotion that followed as the fight resumed, as Colt tried to work his way through the battle to the exit, Katie found herself drifting across the room like one possessed until she made her way over to where Lyla had eventually collapsed. The girl was still sobbing and had grown noticeably paler, and just barely managed to reach up at Katie when she arrived.

There was blood. There was so much blood.

Katie tried to hold her, but didn't know what to do. She didn't know first aid; wasn't a doctor or nurse or EMT, and didn't know the first thing about treating a wound like Lyla's. "Someone!" She cried, "Someone, anyone, get help! Please, anything!"

But no one heard her. The moment had already passed, and in the fight for their lives, the Imperial soldiers didn't have any more seconds to spare for a dying child.

* * *

**11:15 PM - Liberty Square**

"What's happening?"

"Shhh!"

Ethan and his sister were ducked down behind a group of bushes as he tried to spot another potential exit. Both of the one's he'd tried had been locked, but he imagined that there had to be a door somewhere that was left open due to constant traffic. While planning his next move, he heard the roar of people shouting coming from the park Hub, and noticed that soldiers from across Frontierland and parts of Liberty Square had picked up their equipment and were jogging in that direction. It made things easier for him, but it spoke of some other problem that he wasn't excited to encounter. Was the army finally showing up?

With the area in front of Hall of Presidents virtually empty, Ethan waved for Emily to follow and they rushed out in that direction. It wasn't near the edge of the park, but Ethan was exhausted and was willing to compromise for anything at that point. A backstage area, well-hidden enough, could be as suitable as Fort Langhorn. Anything would be fine if it let them survive the night.

So they kept trying, door after door after door. Still no luck.

Just as they were about to try another one, Emily made a panicked noise and directed Ethan's attention up the road where a group of Imperials were running in their direction. With no time to spare, Ethan dragged his sister behind a food cart and prayed that the enemy would keep moving.

Unfortunately, shit luck had been the norm for Ethan that day, and the group stopped in front of them. To Ethan's shock, one of them started talking in English. "Damn the Lord of Italica! Damn him to Hardy and further! Titus, are they still pursuing us?"

One of the other legionnaires started up in a language that Ethan wasn't familiar with, but then, Ethan was an average American and didn't know much more than English and a handful of Spanish words.

"You said there were catacombs here, right? We will escape the town, contact this nation's dissidents, and form a rebellion. With the Gods on my side, this world and the traitors will know the revenge of Helm Fule Maio! So where was it!?"

More incomprehensible speech. "It better be! If we die here because of your insolence—"

Helm stopped, and Ethan could already feel the goosebumps on his arms and neck. _No,_ he thought, _please, please no, don't do this to us, not now, not after all that…_

He looked up.

A man in armor was looking back down at him.

"RUN!" He sprang to his feet, hauling his sister up after him, and barely got five steps when her arm vanished from his grip.

Whirling around, he saw that Emily had tripped, and in that moment one of the Imperials had snagged her. "Em!" He shouted, but his sister was passed back to the Imperial Officer, Helm, who put a jeweled dagger to Emily's throat.

"Now, boy," Helm snarled, "You're from this town. If you wish this girl to live, then you will guide us safely though the catacombs."

To Ethan, all of that was nonsense, but he couldn't leave Emily. "O-okay," he said, holding his hand out, "Just, please take the knife away from her throat."

Instead, Help pressed the knife in closer, and a line of blood dribbled down Emily's neck, and the pace of her sobbing increased. "Tunnels. Now."

Risking a guess, Ethan slowly made his way over to an entryway where two Imperial soldiers were standing. Beyond an open door, a stairway that led down.

He had wanted a way out of the park, and he had gotten his wish.

* * *

**11:18 PM - Liberty Square**

"You're fucking kidding me," Walsh grumbled, watching the action through his rifle scope. Intel had claimed that the area would be clear, and instead they were watching this drama between a pair of civilians and an enemy officer.

His team had left all of their diving equipment on the lower dock of the Liberty Belle steamboat attraction, having made it there completely undetected. Indeed, the Imperial presence seemed far lighter than anticipated, and some of the patrols he was expecting had vanished, or appeared to be running for the center of the park. With the Utilidor entrance in sight, he had been hoping for an easy operation, but apparently it wasn't to be.

"What now?" one of his men asked.

"Plan B," Walsh said. "We'll take Stairway 12 in the Christmas Shop."

"And if we run into them again in the tunnels?"

"Don't hit the kids. Move."

His men nodded, and together they swept across the road, completely unseen.

* * *

**11:24 PM - The Crystal Palace (Restaurant)**

They were the longest minutes of Katie's life. The sounds of combat gradually faded into the background as more and more of Helm's remaining allies fled or were cut down. It didn't matter. Katie's full attention was on the girl bleeding to death on her lap. The most horrific thing was not the blood in and of itself as the way that Lyla's face had shifted from agony to despair. The girl knew.

As the last body fell in the background with a dull thud, one of the soldiers said, "Lord Formal, should we go after the Viscount?"

For a moment Colt said nothing, and Katie wondered if the anger she'd seen before would boil over and he'd charge off in pursuit. If she were in his place, that's what she would have done. Instead, through clenched teeth, he said, "Leave him to the Americans."

Nothing for another few seconds, then, "Begin evacuating the wounded. Prioritize men over equipment. Find volunteers to go to the perimeter and let them know we're leaving at once. Do not harm any hostages. Tell Kalo to meet me at the Gate with two horses and a torch."

Now Colt made his way over to Lyla and dropped to his knees at her side. "Can you…" Katie tried, but she could already see Colt looking at the wound. He did not reply, but rather took the girl's other hand and dropped his head in silent prayer.

At that moment, Lyla's eyes suddenly went wide. "Cinderella?" she said.

"Yes?" Katie said.

"... does this make me a princess?"

The words cut through Kaite nearly as savagely as Helm's sword had cut through Lyla. _Follow your dreams, be good to others, and stand up for the things that are important to you._ After all those nice things she'd said to the girl, that was what she had held on to? _Oh my god,_ Katie thought, _this is MY fault._

"Yes!" Katie said, another wave of hot tears blurring her eyes. "Yes! Of course you're a princess! Of course you are!"

Lyla smiled at that. "I wish—" she said, and then her head fell back and that was all.

"No, no, no no no no…" Katie hugged the little body close to her and buried her face in Lyla's hair.

Somewhere above her, a voice said, "M'lord," and she felt Colt's hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she could barely see his face. The message was clear anyway; it was time for him and Lyla to depart. Even so, it only made her sobbing worse when he lifted the girl up out of her arms, despite her protests.

"I'm sorry," he said, "We—" his voice cracked, and he took a deep breath, and looked Katie dead in the eyes. "We should never have come."

He bowed, turned, and took Lyla's remains for the exit. Through her tears, it looked to Katie like he was stepping out into a sea of dotted lights; a starfield, or a burned out wasteland. Clutching the remains of the child to his chest, he bellowed, "RETREAT! RETREAT TO ALNUS! IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE, RETREAT!"


	11. Chapter 11

"You must understand, my dear. On the stroke of twelve, the spell will be broken, and everything will be as it was before."

—Fairy Godmother, _Cinderella (1950)_

* * *

**11:35 PM - The Hub**

"Gently—careful!"

Death was not unknown to Colt, as Lord of Italica and a veteran of previous Imperial campaigns, he had seen plenty of it, but it meant something altogether different to have known the deceased, to hold their body in your arms. So it had been with his parents. So it had been with his wife. So it was with Lyla.

He passed her blood-soaked body up to his one remaining captains, Kalo, and said, "Take her back to Alnus, and from there to Italica."

"You should take her," Kalo argued. "I will see to—"

"I will not be satisfied unless I see to the fire myself," Colt said. "Go, gods be with you both."

Kalo nodded, spurred his horse into motion, and charged off into the Gate.

The remnants of the Imperial army were trickling in from all around the park. Some had come during the initial brawl between his men and Helm's. Some had gotten the message that an emergency retreat had been sounded, and were running back of their own accord. Of the volunteers sent to find the perimeter guards and let them know, none had made it back yet.

Those that were immediately present prepared as many wounded soldiers as possible for transport, but the supplies and tents and deployable barricades were to be left where they stood. It was a hard choice, but wherever possible Colt asked for the wounded to be evacuated over the dead, and he knew without a doubt that many of the bodies that lay on Main Street would never make it home. The same would be true for the tens of thousands that had died outside the park; attempting to retrieve them from within the range of the enemy guns was suicide. Lyla was an exception—if the Americans got her body, he was sure they would take it apart to see how she worked, and he couldn't stand the thought.

Surely, the Americans and their National Guard would have seen them retreating. They had not attacked yet, however. Were they letting him go? If Colt had been the commander during an even fight, he would let a fleeing enemy escape, but the National Guard was probably well rested and had superior armaments. There was also the true army and Katie's Special Forces to consider. There was nothing stopping them from trying to pursue.

As he mounted his own horse, he wondered where Helm had gone. It wasn't like there was anywhere to go. There was only one way back to Alnus, and even if there was a secret way outside of the National Guard perimeter, Colt couldn't see Helm making it very far. This world had the better technology, and their forces outnumbered and outgunned the Empire by orders of magnitude. His one frustration was that he couldn't send Helm to Hardy himself… perhaps the Americans would grant him the 'glory' he desired.

Personally, he hoped that when the final blow came, it would be unusual and embarrassing.

* * *

**11:37 PM - The Utilidors**

Compared to the Park above Ethan's head, the Utilidors were everything that the guest-facing part of Disney World was not.

The walls were of sheer concrete; a dull beige delineated only by colored stripes designed to identify which portion of the park an employee was under. Scattered along the walls, boxes, crates covered in blue tarps, janitorial equipment, golf carts, a never-ending broom closet of supplies designed to help the park run. Overhead strips of dull fluorescent light mixed in with pneumatic pipes that hissed as they drew in garbage from designated disposal areas around the park.

There was no music down here.

Ethan glanced behind him at the group of five Imperials following him. Emily simply allowed herself to be dragged along, her face dull and despondent while her captor, Helm, looked every which way like some suddenly-caged animal. In the raw industrial lighting, Ethan could see that all the soldiers were covered in blood. He assumed that either they had somehow survived the flight with the US Military earlier that evening, or something on the surface had gone terribly wrong.

"How much further?" Helm said.

He wasn't sure. He'd never been down here. Few who weren't Disney employees ever saw this place. As it was, he was following the tunnel northeast, hoping that the diagrams on the walls really were pointing to the Utilidors main exit. "We're nearly there," he said. He didn't know what he would find the further north they went, and if they did find an exit he wasn't sure what would be waiting at the other side. More Imperials? The business end of an Army tank?

After a while, the sheer walls turned to areas with doors and glass; machine shops, a spacious cafeteria, break rooms. He hit an intersection and stopped. There were no further signs here, and the way that the hallways bent made it impossible to tell which direction was the right one.

"Why have you stopped, boy?"

Ethan swallowed and said, "I'm trying to remember which way to go."

"Remember quickly. I tire of dragging your friend around. My knife might slip."

He took a deep breath, turned around, and said, "I think—"

He hadn't heard them, hadn't seen them, but now, looking about a dozen meters past Helm, he saw the last of the dozen or so black-clad figures wheel out of cover, weapons raised.

Ethan dropped to the ground.

CLACK-CLACK-CLACK

The gunfire caught most of Helm's men in the back, and the Imperial officer himself shoved Emily at the assailants as he dove into a nearby room.

Ethan ran for his sister. She was crying on the floor, terrified, but thankfully alright.

The Special Forces operators glided past them, save one who dropped to his knee, placed a hand on Ethan's shoulder and asked, "You injured?"

He shook his head.

The man with the gun nodded, stood and said, "Stay put. We'll take it from here."

* * *

**11:38 PM - The Utilidors**

Four out of five wasn't that bad, Walsh reflected as he shouldered his suppressed M4A1 once more. The shot on the enemy officer had proven difficult, given that he was unsure if the bullet would penetrate through his target and hit the girl on the other side. With the kids now on the floor, the hardest part had been taken out of the equation.

Walsh picked two of his men and said, "With me, can't let him tell the others. The rest of you, continue to the objective."

With that, he led his men after the enemy into a dimly lit room, and stopped. Somewhere, in the back of his head, he had assumed that a place like this existed, but he had never expected to be standing in it.

The Utilidors are an open secret amongst people with an interest in Disney World, but within the Utilidors themselves is a secretive room that appears on few maps, and has no corresponding pictures. If you take a guided tour, this room will never be shown. If you go looking for it on Google, you won't find a single snapshot. This was a room so secret that Disney has a policy to fire anyone who so much as talks about taking a recording device into that space.

This room is called the "Character Zoo."

Before Walsh, rack after rack of bodies stretched from one room to the other; the familiar red tights and black fur of Mickey Mouse, the brown and white of Chip and Dale, the blue sailor uniform and wide paunch of Donald Duck. Above these, shelves where the decapitated heads of hundreds of characters from his youth stared down at him with empty, lifeless eyes. In the dim light, the costuming department felt like the inside of a meat freezer… or a morgue.

Pushing the idea out of his head, Walsh safed and slung his rifle over his shoulder and drew his pistol, a better option for the close quarters between the racks. Unfortunately, the room was just bright enough to negate the usefulness of Night Vision, but still dark enough to hide a person in the shadows. Worse, the enemy had the element of surprise, putting the SEALs at a disadvantage. With hand motions he signaled to his two men, and they each chose an aisle and walked.

It was mostly quiet, save for the sound of air conditioning and the buzz of the emergency exit lighting. Walsh's own breath sounded painfully loud in comparison. Several feet up the aisle he stopped. There was no way to easily spot their target under these conditions. There were too many objects taking up too much space. Even if he held his breath, he wouldn't hear the enemy until he was right next to them.

There was one other option though. He thought back to the idea of his younger brother hiding in the clothing section of a department store, many years ago. You could hide your body easily in that circumstance, but you couldn't hide your feet.

Carefully, Walsh dropped to his knees and bent over to look under the aisles—

—and rolled left barely missing the blade of the soldier that had tried to drop on him. In the initial confusion, the Imperial moved first, forcing Walsh's gun away with one arm, and going in for the killing blow with the other, but the SEAL was fast enough to block the man's wrist, and the knifepoint stopped inches away from his neck.

"It's over," the Imperial shouted, "I was chosen by the gods!"

Walsh didn't give a shit. He let go of his gun, and with a shove of his hand and legs sent Helm topping off of him and into the costume rack, causing a particularly heavy Mickey Mouse costume to fall onto both of them.

Undeterred, Helm swung the knife down and Walsh, with no time to do anything else, threw the costume up in front of him.

Perhaps if the costume had been only fur, Helm would have struck a blow against the SEAL, but like many other things in Disney, the magic was built on a base of engineering. After passing through the synthetic fur, the knife encountered the liquid cooling vest—a multimillion dollar technology adapted from NASA designs for astronaut life-support systems—and got caught in the plastic layers.

It was more than enough time for Walsh to regain his pistol and fire twice through the costume. Unlike the knife, the bullets did not stop.

Helm collapsed and Walsh rolled out from under him. The Imperial was still breathing, somehow, one hand pressing against his wounds, the other trying to push himself back up. The man's face, half buried in Mickey Mouse's crotch, was still a mask of rage. "Are…" he said, "Are you the Police?"

Walsh raised an eyebrow, said, "Fuck no," and the third bullet went into the back of Helm's head.

* * *

**11:48 PM - The Gate**

Slowly, too slowly for Colt, the density of Imperials running for the Gate started to thin out. He could still see men hundreds of meters away, just starting to run from their positions back to the magic portal. _Run!_ He thought, _faster, before—_

The entire park plunged into darkness. The music, as spirited as it was ubiquitous, went dead.

Now, with little more than the light of his torch, what had once been a fantastic and inviting place, shifted into a realm of hulking shadowy structures and an unusual stillness, broken only by the footfalls of panicked men and the crackling of his light source. Down the street, he could see dozens of small dim red signs. He couldn't read them, but perhaps if he could, he would have taken their statement as a warning. "EXIT."

Barely a second after the lights vanished, the air was filled with a loud rattling, _CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK_, like some giant lock was being opened. In a way, it was. What he was hearing was the sound of hundreds of suppressed rifles going to work on the remaining forces that dared stand exposed around the edges of the park. Hundreds more men fell dead, slain by an invisible enemy that came from nowhere and everywhere at once.

Somewhere, Colt heard screams. More clicking. The screams stopped. Somewhere he heard a series of thumping noises, then another round of clicking. More screams—a wave of the despairing and dying creeping closer and closer though the darkness.

He was out of time.

Colt threw the torch onto the oil-stained base of the Gate and the structure burst into flame, rapidly spreading around the walls and onto the roof.

As he wheeled his horse around, he saw them. For a fraction of a second, dozens and dozens of humanoids, each in black armor and smooth round helmets and sporting four glowing green eyes.

In the light of the growing fire, _they_ could sure as hell see _him_.

"Hyaaa!" Colt spurred his horse into motion and charged into the burning Gate. Even in here, what had originally been a dark tunnel now seemed like a roiling red that shuddered and bubbled as he urged the horse to go faster, ever faster, anything to get him away from the green-eyed demons.

He couldn't see light ahead, didn't know how far he'd gone, but he did hear the high-pitched whistling of objects, hurtling at unimaginable speeds as they shot past.

A bright flower of agony blossomed in his right shoulder, and he screamed, collapsing against the horse's neck. _Of course,_ he thought, fighting to stay awake, fighting to see through the pain to the other end of the Gate, at once approaching and yet endlessly far away, like the castle in the kingdom he had just escaped. _Of course they would hit me. It's what we all deserve._

Somewhere ahead he thought he saw a light. As his consciousness began to fade, he prayed that, if it came down to it, the Gate should swallow him up rather than let the wave of death behind him emerge into the Empire.

* * *

**11:55 PM - The Hub**

The assault was met with little resistance. After all, the Romanesque Imperials were already outmatched in broad daylight. Blinded, surrounded, hit from all sides, the attacks by the Rangers and Marksmen was nothing less than a Turkey Shoot. The few vehicle gates fell quickly to breaching charges, and the initial sweep was as fast as it was deadly.

By the time the Rangers converged on the Hub, the Gate was already ablaze. Some ran up to the mouth of the Gate and sent bursts from their rifles into the darkness, but it was hard to tell if they had hit the fleeing officer or not. The Ranger NCO closest to the fire flipped up his night vision goggles, looked around and said, "Check the buildings! Fire extinguishers! Move!"

But as he turned away from the Gate, he saw something that made him stop.

Now free from their captors, hundreds of civilians had wandered out into the streets. Men, women, children, couples and families, old and young, gaunt, exhausted, empty eyed. Some wandered for the park exit. Others approached the hub to watch the blaze; the growing fire casting long dark shadows that melted into each other and the black facades beyond.

As the NCO watched in horror, a young woman in a blood-soaked Cinderella dress approached him. Even in the low light, he could see the tear tracks on her face, the smeared makeup, and the defeated look. Like some fairy-tale ghost, she slowly approached, raised a red-stained hand, and placed it on his shoulder, as if checking to confirm that he was real, before whispering, "P-please… it's enough. Let it be enough, _please._"

The woman collapsed to her knees. The NCO sighed, safed his weapon, and turned back to the Gate just as the roof caved with a gunshot-loud _SNAP._

For a moment, the space around the Gate seemed to ripple, like a mirage on a hot summer day, and then twisted in on itself causing the whole structure to collapse in a bonfire of splinters and burning debris. The destruction set forth a cloud of millions of glowing ashes, at once more beautiful and cruel than any Disney-sanctioned fireworks show.

By the last stroke of midnight, the Gate and its magic were gone from the Earth.


	12. Chapter 12

**5:45 AM - Main Street**

There are dozens of American Flags in the Magic Kingdom, and all of them are fake except one. Some are missing stripes, or stars, and are produced that way on purpose; it means that they are not subject to formal US Flag Code, and so do not need to be taken down at night or during heavy weather.

The one real flag sits in the middle of the square at the head of Main Street. Ackermann had pointed it out to some passing National Guardsman, and he was surprised to see a group of them take the initiative to go up to the pole and lower the flag down to half-mast, in concert with millions of other flags around the country.

In all, five hundred and ninety-four civilians had died as a result of the crisis. Ninety percent of that number were the result of the attackers or the stampedes to escape the parks. The remaining number were a product of medical conditions while trapped. Rescue crews were still scouring the park, looking for either civilians or enemies that were still in hiding, and any bodies that had been moved.

There was more than enough of the latter. Aside from the civilians, the streets had been littered with corpses, either those of soldiers that had died of wounds from the big battle, or those that had been cut down during the night. There were so many dead that the National Guard didn't know what to do with them all, and Ackermann was consulting them on where to find as much cold storage as the park could provide. It wouldn't be enough, of course, and there were already plans to simply burn the mountain of bodies that still littered the main bus terminal.

The living were another story. The American Red Cross had split up the park by building or area, and was rushing to evacuate those with the most critical needs first. Other groups were being attended to section by section, but all were provided with blankets, water, and warm food… probably the first time so many had eaten for free at the parks. Completed families were sent out to the docks for transport back to the field hospital at the Polynesian Resort. Separated Families were being assembled in Frontierland to be indexed and reunited… or informed of the bad news. There were worse fates, Ackermann supposed, like that of the fifty or so Imperial prisoners who had not died during the raid. These had been marched past the debris where the Gate once stood and, on realizing their situation, became despondent and empty. Some dropped to their knees and became unresponsive to anything. They were castaways in another world, never to see their homes or families again, and destined to receive all the ire of the nation that had beaten them.

Next to him, Captain Metzinger stomped out another cigarette and muttered something.

"What?" Ackermann asked.

"We _had them_. We fucking had them, and they were able to get away."

The old engineer shrugged. "You did kill thousands and thousands of them. Regardless of where they came from, I imagine they're hurting right now. For every person we lost, we killed a hundred of theirs. I'd say it's enough."

"Fuck that. I wanted to find the guy who ordered this attack and put his face through a wall."

As they watched, a series of big trucks reading _DEPARTMENT OF ENERGY_ entered through the southern parade entrance, then turned north up Main Street in the direction of the hub. "You might still get your chance," Ackermann pointed out.

"It's a crapshoot," Metzinger said. "It was impossible to figure out how the Gate worked from pictures. They'll spend a month picking through the debris, throw up their hands, and dump it all in some desert Air Force base until they have the time or tools to mess around with it later. And the POWs probably have no fucking clue—someone who has the tech to make a warp gate wouldn't scout the other side with bows and swords. Unless another one opens, or unless we hit some random breakthrough in the debris, this is a dead end."

Ackermann nodded. In a way, he preferred for things to end this way. If the Rangers had captured the Gate, the Magic Kingdom would have almost certainly closed for good. Metzinger seemed to realize this too. "You get your park back, at least. How long do you think it will take them to get everything up and running again?"

"Once everyone clears out?" Ackermann looked around again. "Most of the damage to the park was slight, and I haven't heard anything wrong about the rides. To retrain personnel and patch the broken facades… a month or two?"

"Really? That's it?"

"Probably less if we put some partitions up. I'll bet that by the time we hit the Christmas season, everything will be back to normal."

"Won't Disney take a huge hit?"

"Sure, but Marvel and Lucasfilm will make up for it eventually. Replacing what we lost won't be the problem. The real problem is how long it will take for people to come here and not think about everyone that died. This is a theme park, you know. Not a cemetery."

"Yeah," Metzinger muttered. "Took a while for Lower Manhattan to feel 'normal' again, and some folks I know had similar feelings about the Pentagon."

Ackermann nodded. "So what now?"

"Now? Now we clear the remaining civilians and POWs out of here, spend about a week collecting everything the Imperials left behind, and then as long as the DoE needs to finish up with the Gate."

"I wish there was more I could do to help."

"Is there anything you'd _like_ to do?"

The old engineer looked up and down the street, thought about it for a little while, then said, "I'd like to get the power back on. It stinks to see everything dead like this."

Metzinger nodded and said, "I bet the guys would be happy for the indoor lighting. Come with me, let's see if we can do something."

The Captain began to turn to walk back up Main Street when Ackermann asked, 'Where are you going?"

"Aren't the Utilidors entrances this way?"

Ackermann grinned and pointed back over his shoulder. "There's a closer one in the back of Tony's."

Metzinger snorted. "Guess I'll never know all the tricks of this place."

"Well, yeah," Ackerman said, 'Then it wouldn't be _magic_, would it?"

* * *

**6:00 AM - In Front of Liberty Tree Tavern (Restaurant)**

Looking at Emily in her Mylar blanket and sipping a cup of hot cocoa, Ethan was convinced that the hardest part was finally over.

As they had promised, the Special Forces had dealt with Helm, then sent a group medic to look over them both and usher them to a safe spot to wait out the remaining fight. It took nearly another hour, but ultimately it was not a SEAL who returned, but an Army Ranger, who identified himself and took them back aboveground.

There, it was if a complete cast-change had taken place. The Roman-like Imperials and their monsters had gone, and the streets had switched from being virtually empty to packed with Red Cross workers, EMTs, police officers, and National Guardsmen. The Rangers hadn't left either—the military had created a shoulder-to-shoulder perimeter around the Gate, the last thing that anyone was still unsure of.

After being fed, blanketed, and checked in, the only thing left to do was wait.

From where they sat, they could see across the river to Tom Sawyer's Island. They had started their stay under twelve hours ago, and yet it felt like they had spent an eternity over there. For a place that he had dismissed as 'boring' and having no attractions, it has sure as hell kept them occupied for quite a long while. He wondered what it would be like to go back there without the threat of death hanging over their heads… or if he could even bear doing so.

Emily tugged on his shoulder and pointed. A group of Navy SEALs had just emerged from the Hall of Presidents, one of them carrying a rolled up circular rug. Ethan didn't understand why they were, but he did feel like he had unfinished business. "Hey, Em," he said, "I'm going to talk to them for a moment. You'll be able to watch me the whole time. Will you be okay for a few minutes?"

His sister nodded, and Ethan jogged off in their direction. As he approached, he heard the muttered banter between the men.

"McKenzie, which is your favorite Disney Princess?"

One of them jerked his thumb over his shoulder and said, "That'd be you, Lopez."

"Hey, um—" Ethan said, causing them to stop in the middle of their snickering and look at him.

"I, uh, I wanted to thank you for helping us—me and my sister—earlier," he said, "So… thank you."

Perhaps if they were Disney actors, he would have gotten a whole spiel about bravery and courage and whatnot, but wasn't a group of actors before him. The SEALs exchanged glances, some with rueful grins, before one said, "Uh… yeah, sure thing!"

Deciding it best to leave it there, Ethan smiled, gave a nod, then turned around and walked away. _What was I thinking? Is that really all I could say?_

But then, the one that had responded didn't seem any more magnificent. Maybe they hadn't known what to think either. In a way it mirrored his own experience. You deal with what you encountered to the best of your ability.

Nearly back, he saw Emily look up from her cup, eyes wide, then go sprinting off towards the west. _Even after that, she's still running off_, he thought, then, following her direction of travel, finally saw what had spurred her reaction.

His parents. Both of them.

And so, just like at the start, Emily ran, and Ethan ran after her.

* * *

**6:30 AM - In front of the park**

It was different for the Cast Members than it was for the guests. Katie still received initial care from the Red Cross, but once she had convinced them that the blood on her dress wasn't hers, she was sent along to the offices in the Utilidors where she was identified and checked by Disney's Human Resources department. Members of the FBI were there too, trying to gather details from anyone who might have overhead useful information on the invaders. Enough of the other staff members from the Royal Table restaurant had identified her that she received a brief, private interview and, after telling them a list of names and roles, they assured her that they would contact her again for an extended discussion, and to write down as much as she could remember the moment she got home.

As for that, Disney staff were to take shuttle busses from the Ticket and Transportation Center back to the staff overflow parking lot. With the bus terminal closed and monorail inoperative, there was no other option but to take one of the ferries across the Seven Seas Lagoon.

All of this was a blur to Katie though. She stumbled her way through the front gates of the park, the blue ball gown long since replaced by a t-shirt and shorts, not really aware or caring much about what was going on around her. Indeed, as she emerged from the tunnels, she stopped. The once-pristine entry area was a torn up mess; its gardens trampled, its security checkpoints upended, its concrete walkways raked by canyons and craters torn up by helicopter missiles and machine gun fire. Somewhere off to the east, National Guardsmen in gas masks and other biohazard gear were dumping fuel upon an enormous pile that she could not see—that she did not wish to see—as they waited for the second conflagration of the day. In the dim twilight silence, the park felt cold and dead.

Her thoughts were still on Lyla. Sandy had warned her not to get too close, and she hadn't listened. She couldn't help but think that if she had done something differently, the girl would still be alive. Failing that, she could have at least never put such a preposterous idea into Lyla's head. In real life, princesses didn't stand up for what they believed in—they stayed in their room, in their castle, away from swords, and soldiers, and all those other nasty things that the world longed to escape. Lyla must have known that, so why…

...why was she smiling in the end?

Katie shifted her pocketbook on her shoulder, and just as she was about to make her way to the ferry dock, a sound caught her ear. At first she thought she was hearing things… a whistle?

No, a flute.

One by one, the lampposts in the entry area began to flicker on, slowly spreading their light from the monorail station, to the ticket booths, the security stands, and ultimately sweeping over her head to the train station above.

There, mounted atop the gate to the Magic Kingdom, she saw a plaque; the same one sits somewhere on every Disney park around the globe.

_HERE YOU LEAVE TODAY_

_AND ENTER THE WORLD_

_OF YESTERDAY, TOMORROW_

_AND FANTASY_

Around her, _When You Wish upon a Star_ began to play.

She had forgotten, she didn't understand when it had happened, but for a moment she had, and it had nearly destroyed her. Disney World wasn't about reality. It was a place of _dreams_. It was a place where you could ignore the sorrows of the world outside, where the good guys won not because they were powerful but because they were just, where for a day you could venture into space, or explore a wilderness, or talk to royalty.

It was a place where, for five seconds, a peasant girl could believe that she had gotten the thing she wanted most.

Disney World is a collection of fakes. Fake castles, fake princesses, fake kingdom, but the emotions it could generate were real. Happiness, excitement, hope.

As an actress, she was part of that.

Katie let her hand drift into her pocketbook and touched the Amulet of Elange buried at the bottom. Perhaps the magic wasn't gone from this place after all.

* * *

**FIVE WEEKS LATER**

**Italica, Falmart**

The Calamity beyond the Gate was the single worst military defeat incurred by the Saderan Empire in generations. Of the Sixty-five thousand men that had been sent through, about three thousand returned. Three hundred of these died of wounds. Of the survivors, sixty were junior officers. Of the twenty nobles that had gone through the Gate, only one had returned.

Arguably, less than one.

Colt Formal had been bedridden for three weeks, and had nearly died of blood loss and infection. The surgeon ultimately took his right arm, and once he regained consciousness the phantom limb still gave him periodic spikes of pain, the missing hand still trying with muscles and nerves that were no longer there to hold on to the fleeing horse. It hadn't been successful in that regard either—he had slipped off the moment he was back in Alnus and had broken his other arm, hip, and four ribs. It was only by some miracle that he hadn't broken his neck as well.

As a result, he was one of the last of the survivors that was interviewed about the experience beyond the Gate. Colt struggled through the pain to recount everything to the best of his abilities. It took nearly a dozen sessions—he fainted in agony halfway through the first two.

His Interviewer, Diabo El Caesar, the Second Prince of Sadera, was thankfully very patient, and listened to everything he had to say. Colt had been worried that his stories of themed parks and roller-coasters and green-eyed monsters would be seen as the ranting of a madman. Fortunately, Diabo had already interviewed plenty of junior officers who recounted the same things and was willing to accept them as truth. As Colt concluded his story, Diabo looked up from his quill and parchment and said, "All things considered, I suppose we should be thankful that you shut the Gate before these Americans were able to capture it. Our losses are bad enough as they currently stand. I can't begin to imagine what an all-out war with these people would have been like."

"Do the others agree with you?" Colt asked.

"My father does. My brother and half the Senate do not. They want revenge for what they see as a military embarrassment. It would not be entirely out of the question for them to open another Gate, perhaps to somewhere else on that world. Even with your testimony, it's going to take some effort to convince them out of it."

"Hmm…" he pointed with his remaining hand and said, "Aurea, would you mind?"

The maid jumped up from her chair and hurried to bring over a platter of Colt's personal possessions. From these, Colt drew one of his two souvenirs from the other world, a tube made of material unlike any seen in the Empire before. "I spoke of this in my story, right? Here, examine it."

Diabo walked over, accepted the implement from Colt and said, "This is the 'pen', right?"

"Correct," Colt said. "Looks simple enough on the outside, right?"

"Indeed."

"Very well, uncap it."

Diabo did so, and much as Colt did over a month ago, he examined the intricacies of the ball-point. "A fascinating device," he said.

"The lands beyond the Gate are much like that," Colt explained. "Simple enough on the exterior, but hiding a whole world of complexity within, and a power and capability that will take us time to understand or match… time that we don't have. Before the Senate wishes to try again, before they attempt to get more men slaughtered… please show them that pen."

Diabo pocketed the pen and gave him a polite bow. "We shall see what they think. I wish you a speedy recovery."

Colt nodded in return, and the Second Prince departed.

It was with some irritation that Colt noticed that the Prince had left the door to the room open, and he was about to ask Aurea to go close it when he noticed the light hair and big blue eye peeking in from the hallway. "Myui?" he said, "Is that you?"

His youngest daughter stuck her head around the door, and her father waved at her to come in. Of his three children, Myui was the only one still living under his roof, so she visited him the most often. The other two were still reeling over the loss of their husbands, Counts Missna and Roen, and were heavily occupied with managing the affairs of the domains they had been left with. He had been unconscious when he had been brought home the first time; that was another small miracle, as on seeing his broken body Myui had supposedly cried her eyes out. He was thankful that he didn't have to witness that.

Colt couldn't help but grin as she settled in next to him on the bed. Well into her tenth year, she was in that amusing age where little girls were still making up their minds as to whether or not they wished to fight with the boys or pursue a courtly, ladylike character. She had asked for both tea serving and business lessons in the past. Thankfully, no sword lessons; Colt didn't want to think of his daughter going to war, and with his right arm lost to the Americans, his fighting days were firmly behind him.

"Running from Kaine again?" He asked her. The head maid was not her primary teacher, but she was her primary disciplinarian.

"I don't like natural philosophy," Myui said. "What's the use in it?"

Colt raised an eyebrow. "On the far side of the Gate, everyone knows Natural Philosophy. They use it to build machines that push both imagination and believability, but there they were."

Myui gave a wry grin. "_Now_ can you tell me the story of the other side of the Gate?"

Colt thought about it. He had been holding off until after he had fully recovered, but he figured that he had been bedridden long enough… and he would have liked to tell the story just once more.

"Very well, but not here. Let's go out to the gardens. This room is getting stuffy. Aurea, send for my chair."

The maid brought over a wheelchair, and together the three of them left the manor for the hall's gardens.

Compared to what he had seen at the Magic Kingdom, his gardens, often considered a jewel of the city, seemed less grand. What he valued from it now was not its scope, but its tranquility. It was a calm place, and everything from his duties and fighting could be left behind here to focus on personal concerns.

One such personal concern was a tree by the edge of the garden, where a small marble slab had been set, and was being looked over by another one of the maids.

On seeing them approach, the maid rose, curtseyed, and asked, "Anything you need, m'lord?"

"Not particularly. I just wanted to check up on you… and her."

Persia nodded, her cat-like ears falling in conjunction with her mood. "Madame Kaine asked me to see to the gardens today. I… I thought I should see how she was—" her voice cracked, "How she was doing. She was so thankful that she was working with you, you know, and our mother and father heard that she had earned the role they were so proud of her…"

Lyla El Scyanthall had ultimately been buried here, on the manor grounds, with her parent's permission. Colt had hoped that nothing of the sort would ever happen, but he had made some brief plans in case he or Lyla lost their lives on the far side of the Gate. In his own case, Myui would have become Lady of Italica with Kaine as her ward, but looking down at his daughter now he felt sick at how close he had come to that exact situation. What would she have done if Italica were pressed by political rivals or, worse, attacked by bandits?

As for Lyla, his plan was to ensure that her oldest sister, Persia, would be allowed into the maid staff at Formal Manor. It wasn't quite on par with the position of court mage, but it would ensure that Lyla's family remained fed, and show that he was taking responsibility for her passing. Even now, looking at the girl's grave, Colt was thinking about whether or not he could do more.

"Did anyone ever tell you the specifics of what happened that day?" he asked.

Persia shook her head. "I've heard only stories. It seems like a wild fantasy."

Colt gave an understanding nod. "Stories… looking back on it all, it was quite a fantasy wasn't it? I'll tell you now, if you'd like. It's a story of monsters and magic, kingdoms and castles—"

"And princesses?" Myui asked with a grin.

"Yes," Colt said. "Two of them."

**THE END**

* * *

"_After all, if Itami could get Pina into Tokyo Disneyland, I'm sure the State Department could safely guide you through EPCOT."_

—Carol Dawson, _A Sky Full of Fire (2017)_

_Author's note:_

Initially, I hadn't planned on writing any more Gate fiction, but I kept returning to this one joke on SpaceBattleForums and Discord about what would happen if the Gate opened in Disney World. Initially it stayed that way: just a joke. The thing was, as I found myself thinking more and more about it, I realized that Disney World is actually an interesting chance to present off-worlders with how Earth sees "magic" and "otherworldly" experiences. A reverse-Isekai into a fake Isekai, if you will. From there, I had considered including it as part of an anthology of short stories taking place between _Thunder _and _Starlight_. The anthology never materialized (one short, about a meteorite, is posted on SBF) but the Disney idea refused to leave. Ultimately, having realized that I never wrote a Gate invasion scene, I decided to go for a full novella.

And here we are! This work was heavily based on books like Jurassic Park by Crichton and Airport by Hailey, but also takes moments from Nylund's Halo books and, of course, the 1950 animated film Cinderella. It also heavily utilized maps provided by The Disney Blueprints Page (Ed on Flickr), and consultation with my old colleagues on The Palace and iEars Minecraft servers. As the old saying goes, "Write what you know", and I would not know as much without the experience of working and interacting with those people.

Finally, I would like to thank those of you who stayed with me through the whole story, and who took time to write reviews. It means a lot to me, and I hope that I have a chance to entertain all of you again in the future.

—8andahalfby11, 2019

As always, if you have lingering questions or just want to chat, feel free to PM me.


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